


Jack of all Trades, Master of None

by silkhidingrose



Series: Jack of All Trades, Master of None [1]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Basketball, Character Development, Cheating, Comedy, Drama & Romance, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Harems, High School, Hope, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Manga & Anime, Middle School, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Multi, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Other, Rating May Change, Siblings, Sports, Step-siblings, Tags May Change, Time Skips, Trust Issues, Twins, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-07-24 16:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16179002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkhidingrose/pseuds/silkhidingrose
Summary: Life in a lavish cage finally ends for a young girl who has everything within reach, but no passions to call her own. Charisma, intelligence, elegance, civility, and cunning. Academics, sports, socializing. Everything had been whittled and polished into perfection, and anything unnecessary cast out.Her entire life had been planned out for her by her family's matriarch. And yet, fate led her to the Miracles.





	1. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Jack of All Trades: Master of None](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/421601) by silkhidingrose. 



> {Author's Notes: Hello! Nice to meet you! Please call me Silky, or Rose. I use she/her pronouns! I really hope you enjoy this story, it’s my very first time writing and committing to a fic about a character I’ve been developing since I was a teen. I hope you’ll read for more than just the KnB characters, but my original characters as well! Please feel free to ask me questions if you’re confused, and I’ll answer to the best of my ability without spoiling anything for you!}
> 
>  
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or its characters, all the content belongs to Tadatoshi Fujimaki, and published by Shueisha. I do not make any profit on this work, and I only own my characters. Please support the official release.**

***  


“Mother, I don’t understand why she needs to go to school so far away. Why can’t she just go to school in London, or even Kyoto! She doesn’t have to go so far away, does she?”  


“Your daughter is a Reinwalt and a Fujisaki. Two proud families built upon millennia of the best money has to offer. She will not be going to “perfectly fine” schools. Teiko will challenge her in many ways, not simply academics.”  
_But she wanted to be in Kyoto with her grandmother and grandfather._  


“Well, we can’t just pick up and leave England like this. I have to stay at the firm, and it takes time to change my care providers. And Takahiro is far too busy to even consider—” A derisive snort cuts the brunette off.  


“Do you think I’m going to let that poor excuse of a father and husband lay a hand on that girl’s education? Your sickness must be getting to your head, Eliza. Madoka has been in Japan for the last 5 years and she plans to stay there, correct?”  
_She didn’t want go to school in Tokyo._  


“Yes, well, Madoka is busy at the studio, so—”  


“Madoka is her godmother. Godmothers watch over their godchildren in the parents’ stead. She is merely doing her duty, as I have, and as will Kotomi, since Ayato is being a child and Tomoki is—”  


“Mother…please don’t talk about them.”  
Deafening stillness signaled the end of the hour-long showdown between a concerned mother and an overbearing grandmother. Beside Eliza Fujisaki stood a tiny teen whose visage closely resembled a doll. She would no doubt flourish into a beauty with her dark hair ending at her chin and her large, bright blue eyes. She gazes up at her grandmother with a stoic, sharp eyed gaze, nodding once. Most people cowered under the gaze of Lady Cordelia Chastain Reinwalt, all but her husband and her granddaughter.  


“You will study at Teiko, starting this April, Kotomi. Is that understood?” Kotomi nods once, her expression unchanging.  


“Yes, grandmother.” Her own words defy all the rejection of the notion, every pore screaming in defiance. She wanted to throw a tantrum, kick the chair, pound her fists, anything. But she knew not only would it be a fruitless endeavor, but she alone would suffer for it in the aftermath. Kotomi’s eyes wander over to the younger woman standing at her side, in physicality, at least. Her mother wouldn’t make eye contact with her. She was ashamed, unable to even look at her own daughter at the mercy of her grandmother.  


“Then you’re dismissed. Next week, Ezekiel will take you shopping for what you need.” Kotomi takes a step back and curtsies politely, as per her grandmother’s commands since her 10th birthday.  


“Yes, grandmother.” Kotomi turns and leaves the room, her bottom lip trembling and her brow furrowing as her façade shatters to smaller pieces the farther she retreats from the kitchen.  


It wasn’t as if, Japan was nothing new to her. For six years she called Japan her home before her family moved to England for her parents’ work, after all. Just not in Tokyo. But a 13-year-old just about to start middle school had nothing on her 72-year-old grandmother, whose age only made her stricter with every passing awkward birthday party of dull socializing, playing the violin, and reciting 19th century poetry by memory before an entourage of Oxford and Cambridge scholars.  
Still, her mother, like Kotomi, was no match, for she too knew of her grandmother’s tyranny all too well. And her father was no kind of help; she hadn’t even seen him in the last month, much less spoke to him. Kotomi moved silently on her feet, away from the scene, her vision blurry as she stumbled, unfocused, to her grandfather’s office, where he typed away at his newest novel, the deadline for publication on his heels.  


Of course, he always had time for his beloved granddaughter, with whom he shared a love for sports, from fencing to ballet to street basketball, though the latter were far in the past for a man who could no longer move as he used to. He was the reason Kotomi was so active. When he looks up, his light green eyes sparking with mirth and concern for his blood, he immediately stands and moves to his cozy velvet armchair by the fireplace, sitting just in time for the teen to crawl into his lap, curling up and hiding her face in the fine upholstery.  


“Grandfather.”  


“I know, little Alice,” he sighed, his nickname granted to her by him, thanks to her ever-curious nature likened to the titular character of Lewis Carroll’s iconic story, Kotomi’s favorite book series since she learned to read, and also the namesake of her great great grandmother, whom many claimed Kotomi took after in appearance and personality. “I could hear the both of them from here.”  


“Can’t you do something? I don’t want to go.”  


“Now, now, where is my little adventurer? You know that your grandmother only wants the best—”  


“For the family. Not for me,” Kotomi insisted, hiccupping softly, though she shed no tears. “For the family.”  


“What’s best for the family is best for you.” He sighs, petting her hair affectionately, wondering briefly for how many more years would he be able to share these tender moments with her, knowing that one day he would not be here, or that she would no longer return home. “Because you are the future.”  


“Why me?” It was a question she asked often, but one she knew the answer to. But she asked it all the same.  


“Do you love your mother, little Alice?”  


“Of course.”  


“Your grandmother?”  
A long silence.  


“Yes.”  


“Your father and brothers?” An even longer silence, and with no response, her grandfather sighed, pulling the young girl’s face away from its hiding place. “Kotomi…”  


“I know,” she sighs heavily again, getting down from her grandfather’s lap and clutching the fabric of her skirt, pouting childishly.  


“You’ll get to visit your other grandparents during the weekends.”  


“I know.”  


“And Madoka will be watching you, isn’t that right? Which means you’ll have to stay at the studio, sometimes,” His smile widens as his granddaughter’s eyes sparked with intrigue.  


“But…grandmother said I can’t.”  
v“But I say you can. It’ll just be our little secret, alright? During the weekends, you can start hip hop classes with Madoka—” He doesn’t even finish his sentence before the young girl throws herself on top of him again, squealing with delight.  


“I get to dance again!”  


“Shh,” Kotomi can hardly contain her giggles nor her urge to hug the elderly man as he places a finger to his lips, giving her a mischievous smile. “Remember, our little secret.”  


“But keeping a secret from grandmother? That’s…impossible.”  


“Nonsense. Sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast!” Kotomi giggles again, her eyes following her grandfather as he stands and retreats to the corner of his office, reaching down into a chest and pulling out two foils, the swords carefully packed within their leather cases. “But in return for my silence on the matter, you simply must practice with me this afternoon.” Kotomi grins as she takes one foil, sliding her fingers across its metal handle, her smile growing to be just as mischievous as her grandfather’s.  


“Only if you join me for afternoon tea, afterwards. It’s my unbirthday, after all.”  


“But of course, young Alice.” With the uncertainty in her chest and a gentle hope protecting her heart, Kotomi follows him to the dance hall. What would she find at the bottom of her little rabbit hole?  
_**-A few months later-**_  


The April air of Japan spoke of clear skies and soft breezes, and yet Kotomi could find no joy as she was escorted through the busy crowds of travelers by her godmother’s son, Ichiro Tachibana. Ichiro, a stoic, strict, bookish young man in his first year of college at Tokyo University, with his mother’s reddish-brown hair and sharp hazel eyes, quietly escorted the younger girl through the confusion that was Narita airport. Kotomi could only stare ahead vacantly, though she was far from empty headed.  
Despite her grandfather’s efforts to cheer her up, she was still bitter and reluctant to leave her busy but comfortable life in England. But she shed only a small tear when she spotted the elderly man at the doorway beside her grandmother, the only one with a smile and teary eyes. Kotomi received a quiet reprimand from her childhood friend, as she kneeled on the leather seats of Ichiro’s Cadillac to watch him disappear behind her family estate’s gates. Her mother could barely meet her eyes as she was brought to the car, likely ashamed that she could do nothing in the face of her mother to protect her only daughter. Her father was off who knows where with who knowns who, likely unaware that his only daughter was being shipped away like a prize horse across the ocean to be trained and polished for a show.  


When they finally arrive at the apartment she would be sharing with her godmother, Madoka Tachibana is already waiting with open arms and a wide grin. Instead of using her majors in Psychology and Education to professor at some stuffy school, Madoka much preferred teaching disenfranchised youths how to dance in Los Angeles, California.  
She even started a YouTube channel to reach even more young people, all over the world who couldn’t afford to make the trek over to her dance studio. Thanks to Eliza pulling some strings, Madoka opening up another studio in the city of Tokyo, where her parents grew up. Kotomi smiles and embraces her godmother. She liked Madoka and her son. They were good, honest people. Madoka spoke first after a long minute of embrace.  


“I hope my Ichiro wasn’t too boring on the way here, Kotomi.”  


“Not at all. Though he did scold me.” Ichiro huffed indignantly as he unloads her bags from the trunk of his car.  


“She was standing on my new seats.” Madoka rolls her eyes.  


“I see you two are getting along as always.”  


“He’s fine.”  


“She’s alright.” Madoka laughs again, ruffling Kotomi’s hair and giving her son a kiss on the cheek when he comes to greet her.  


“Okay, enough bickering, you two,” If that could be called bickering… Madoka had forgotten how quiet Kotomi became after the incident with her and both her brothers, though she couldn’t blame the young girl. “Let’s get your stuff settled. Monday will be on us in no time. You don’t want to be unpacking still when classes start.” Kotomi and Ichiro both silently set to work, wordlessly agreeing that Ichiro would unpack and Kotomi would bring her things to her room. Madoka watches for a moment, before she sighs.  
“Jeez, how efficient can you guys be…?”  


The unpacking is quite fun, thanks to Madoka teasing her son to no end and playing her loud, but energetic Zumba music to keep them motivated. The night ends with Tonkatsu curry, a fusion of Madoka’s two favorite things, and Kotomi settling into her newly furnished room. Despite the warm welcome to Japan, Kotomi can only dread the coming Monday, when she would start school at Teiko Junior High, her first time since elementary school setting foot in a Japanese school. Though, her grandfather instilled within her a sense of wonder and hope for the future. Focusing on what she should have done or what she could be doing back in England was counterproductive. She’s adjusted to everything life had thrown at her with the grace and poise expected of her as a lady of the Reinwalt household. At least on the outside. As she stares at the ceiling, her eyes and body finally succumbing to all the heavy lifting she did today, Kotomi murmurs to herself.  


“It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards…”  


When Monday comes, Kotomi is already exhausted from unpacking all weekend. Ichiro had to prepare for his own first day of college, living with his father in Kanagawa half an hour away, and Kotomi insisted that Madoka attend to her duties at the dance studio. Depending on others wasn’t a part of her programming in any sense of the words, much to the chagrin of her grandmother, and by extension, the servants who feared her grandmother’s wrath.  


However, this left Kotomi unpacking on her own, as well as purchasing all her necessities for her first day of junior high. Against her wishes, Madoka went out of her way to prepare a traditional Japanese breakfast of mackerel, miso soup, rice, and veggies for Kotomi before heading to work. Though, Kotomi would be grateful for the energy it provided for her journey through the streets of Tokyo, being shoved and pushed in the chaos of morning rush hour until she finally found herself before the gates of Teiko, seating herself amongst the sea of raven haired students for the entrance ceremony, staring at her phone as she texted the group chat of her close friends, only looking up when the feedback of the microphone led her attention to the principal on stage.  


Kotomi looks on with feigned interest, glancing around briefly and spotting the upperclassmen and their parents, as well as the parents of the other first years, just feet away from their children. Then she looks away. It isn’t as if she had anyone watching her anyways, and that was just fine with her.  


“Welcome, new students, returning students. I look forward to a new year with you at Teiko. As you know…” His words became a dull buzzing in Kotomi’s ears after a few minutes, and her eyes soon started searching for any kind of stimulation, her tapping fingers wanting to reach for her phone again, which flashed with new messages incessantly.  


“Hey, you’re pretty popular, I guess?” The whisper has her eyes darting up to the voice’s owner, which led them now to a young man with messy brown hair, black roots growing from the top of his head and kind eyes the color of chestnuts. “Sorry, it’s just that this guy’s so boring. I was counting people’s shoelaces when I noticed your phone.” Kotomi merely smiled politely, nodding in agreement, before looking away, but he persisted. “So, what’s your name? I’m guessing that your family name starts with F, considering—”  


“Fujisaki.” Kotomi answered quickly, though keeping her voice low, smiling politely again. She supposed this was a good enough distraction, and he seemed determined in continuing this conversation. “Kotomi Fujisaki.” The young man looks slightly surprised, but then tilts his head, still smiling.  


“Are you from Hong Kong or something? Or no, it’s gotta be the UK. You’ve got an accent and you introduced yourself with your name backwards.” Kotomi looks away, blushing slightly out of embarrassment of her own mistake, causing the young man to laugh softly. Her grandmother would surely scold her for forgetting something so simple. Why hadn’t she reviewed Japan’s etiquette?  


“I’m sorry, I just came back to Japan. I’ve been living in England since I was 6.”  


“Ahaha, it’s alright. That’s pretty cool, actually. Welcome back. Ah, my name is Akihisa, by the way. Fujita Akihisa.”  


“Right…nice to meet you…ah, Fujita-kun.”  


“Nice, you remember your honorifics. But it’s Fujita-senpai.” Kotomi turns even redder, causing her seatmate to snicker a little too loudly, the girls on his side glancing over at the two of them. It occurs to Kotomi five seconds later that the first years were all seated together, there’s no way he could be an upperclassman. She huffs and puffs her cheeks out, giving him a gentle shove, which he tries to block with another laugh.  


“Sorry, sorry! Just helping you out!”  


“I would like for everyone in the audience to remain quiet, I am almost done with the commencement speech. I know how excited you are to begin at such a good school.” The disapproving tone of the principal and the glares of the student council betray his words, and Kotomi looks down again, head hung in shame. Not even the first day, she was causing trouble. Grandmother would be furious. And yet, she couldn’t stop smiling, glancing at Fujita, who merely scratches his head and grins, a small blush on his cheeks as he mouths ‘sorry’ to her. Kotomi only returns a small smile, still giggling to herself.  


~  


“Man,” Fujita sighs as he stretches, yawning loudly, to the irritation of the girls passing by him. “That was way too long! Don’t you think, Fujisaki-chan?” Ignoring the sudden familiarity, or the assumption that she was younger than him, Kotomi nods, though her silence is taken in stride. “I can’t believe he expected us to be quiet for that long.”  


“Well, you were quite entertaining with your finger puppets afterwards.”  
“Hah! For real? You could tell what was going on?”  
“Of course, I speak fluent finger puppet.”  
“What was your favorite part?”  
“When the wizard gave his pet rabbit to the knight.”  
“What? That was a princess!” Kotomi glances at him in bewilderment.  
“Seriously?” Fujita grins.  
“Nah, you were right. It was a knight.”  
“You joke far too much.”  
“And you speak too proper. Loosen up a little!”  
“It’s the first day of school and you got me in trouble.” Fujita gasps, hand on his chest as if she had stabbed him.  
“I show you my finger puppets and this is how you repay me? By blaming me for something you did? You pushed me first!” Kotomi laughs a little, giving him a gentle shove with her shoulder.  
“And I’ll do it again if you don’t stop teasing me!” The male laughs, shaking his head.  


“Fine, fine. I’ll stop for now. I gotta go find the location for the basketball club before we go to homeroom, anyway. Hopefully they have some fliers up already…” Kotomi almost stops walking at this, tilting her head.  


“Basketball…?”  


“Yeah, you didn’t know? The basketball team is insanely good here. Guys in the first string end up playing professionally, even!” His eyes shined with a familiar brightness that made Kotomi uneasy, though she keeps her smile and laughs a little without missing a beat.  


“First string…? I suppose these terms are exclusive to Japan?”  


“Oh right, the whole moving thing. Well! I guess I’ll have to teach you then! What clubs are you interested in?”  


“Probably the kendo club.”  


“Kendo, huh? That’s surprising. You’re all thin and delicate looking, I thought you would go for the baking club or something.” Kotomi’s giggle sounds endearing, though it was one out of disbelief more than anything. She’s heard far worse from some of both of her grandparents’ more traditional and conservative friends, so she took it in stride.  


“Oh my, you’ve caught me. I planned to join the fabric weaving club, since the cooking club involves carrying my own bowls, and my tiny arms could hardly withstand all that weight. Oh, but maybe I can join the tea party club, though I think the cups could be too hea—”  


“Okay, okay, I get it!” Fujita waves his arms frantically in front of her face before she can continue with her speech, clapping his hands together and bowing his head. “Forgive me! I just thought-you know! Ah, man! So!” He shoots up suddenly, shocking Kotomi enough that she stops walking. “You like Kendo, huh? That’s cool.”  


“My grandfather on my father’s side is a Kendo instructor.”  


“Seriously? Really cool. I used to watch the competitions with my older brother all the time. He loves it. He even wanted to study Kendo with his hero, Fujisaki Daijiro! He was—wait.” Fujita looks at Kotomi incredulously. Her raises an eyebrow and smiles.  


“Oh no, please, go on. I’d like to hear more.” Fujita takes a few steps back, his back hitting the wall.  


“You’re… you’re his…?”  


“I believe that the word is ‘granddaughter.’ Though I can’t blame you for being confused. Fujisaki is a fairly common surname.” Kotomi laughs, covering her mouth to hide her amusement as best she can as Fujita gasps even louder.  


“No way! My brother’s gonna freak! Is there any way you could—”  


“Talk to Grandfather? Of course I can, though I won’t see him until this weekend. I can’t ask him to accept your brother, but…” Kotomi smirks a little. “I might put in a special word if your brother manages to beat me in a match sometime.” Fujita looks as though he’s seen a divine figure, though Kotomi ignores the look out of embarrassment and for taking her phone out, opening her e-mail.  


“Here, give me your contact info.”  


“Y-yes ma’am!” Fujita quickly retrieves his phone, almost dropping it in the process. They exchange in silence, before Fujita glances up at Kotomi, who is intent on copying his information, before he speaks again with a bashful grin, his tone laced with playfulness.  


“Is this a sly way of getting my number? Are you hitting on m—”  
“On second thought, maybe I shouldn’t be so involved. I changed my m—”  
“Gah! Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Forget I said anything!”  


~  


After finding out that they were not in the same homeroom, with Kotomi being in the advanced first year’s class, and Fujita in the regular class, Kotomi continued her own to the classroom for commemorative photos. As she walks in, she keeps her head held high, her grandmother’s voice echoing in her head to “make a good impression.” She kept that air about her, that she was welcome for amicable conversation, but she would not stand for disrespect.  
Though, she shrinks a little when she notices people staring at her intently. Perhaps she could wait on making that impression later? As she surveys the crowd of first years, her soon to be classmates, one catches her eye. A young man with crimson red hair. She remembers such an intense shade of red very vaguely, at a party while she still lived in Japan with her parents and her grandparents in Kyoto.  


Her father’s parents, distinguished figures in Japan in their own rights, often held elegant but quiet parties in their traditional Japanese estate. It was more than likely that her classmate was the son of one of those business partners, though she couldn’t place the name. He seems to notice her staring too, and she almost considers coming up to introduce herself, but the way his shoulders tense ever so slightly tells her that he didn’t want to be recognized, and she wasn’t one to initiate conversation with someone who didn’t want it.  


She sits down instead, a little anxious, waiting for the instructions from the homeroom teacher.  


“Alright, class, let’s get together for our class picture…when I call your name, please line up against the wall. Shorter students in the front…Akashi Seijuro.”  


Ah, there it was.  


Kotomi definitely recognized that family name. Akashi Masaomi, a business rival of her father’s, with whom he had an amicable but professional relationship. She remembered his wife more than the man himself. She was a beautiful woman with beautiful red hair, and she was the kindest socialite Kotomi had ever met in her six years of life at the time, paling only in comparison to her grandfather.  


The Akashis had brought along their only son, and heir to the Akashi empire, a polite, but quiet young boy with bright crimson eyes. They shared nothing more than a quiet greeting before her family moved on with Kotomi clinging to her grandmother’s kimono. She never saw him again, until this moment.  
It was likely he didn’t remember her, and honestly Kotomi preferred it that way. She says nothing and doesn’t even look at him again, waiting patiently for her name to be called for the picture. When all is said and done, and the first class begins, Kotomi takes a random seat, ending up beside the green haired boy whose name she remembered was Midorima, though only because he was carrying around a small glass bead with pretty swirling colors of red, orange and yellow.  


It was pretty, but she was confused as to why he had it in the first place. She’s so curious that she finds herself staring very intensely at it, as her could read its molecular makeup and those molecules would tell her why this boy was carrying marbles around.  


“Can I help you with something?” Kotomi glances up at the bespectacled boy, finally taking note of the matching forest green irises, taken aback for just a moment.  


_Pretty eyes…_  


“Sorry, I was just admiring your marble.” She smiles and tilts her head at him, “I like it. It looks like you captured wildfire.”  


“Hn,” He glances away from her, huffing in annoyance, though Kotomi didn’t feel the same tensions she felt when she was caught staring at the Akashi boy. “It doesn’t have anything to do with how pretty it is.”  


“But it’s pretty nonetheless. There’s nothing wrong with thinking something is beautiful, is there?” Another scoff.  


“Perhaps.” And then nothing more is said, so Kotomi turns her attention back to the board, unaware of the pair of green eyes glancing back at her visage, a nervous hand fiddling with the glass bead.  


~  


“I can’t believe it,” Madoka gasped, stretching carefully by placing one of her legs against the ballet bar and bending forward into it. Kotomi watches her as she does her own stretches, wearing a loose long-sleeved t-shirt and leggings. Her balls feet are pressed together in front of her as she bends forward, the butterfly stretch welcoming to her stiff legs. She was out of practice and stiff as a board. “You made a friend already? I guess you’re more like old Callum than Cordelia?”  


“He spoke to me more than anything. He was quite nice.”  


“Don’t be getting a boyfriend now, Kotomi!” Her tone is not nearly as authoritative as her grandmother’s would be if she found out about Fujita.  


“We just met.”  
v“If he thinks you’re pretty, and he probably does, time stops existing for young boys.” Kotomi rolls her eyes as she stands up, doing a few squats and buttkickers, then jumping up and down, her lips turned up slightly. Madoka smiles as well, knowing that Kotomi enjoyed dancing the most out of her many talents. It was her grandfather Callum who suggested Madoka that Kotomi dance in secret in Japan, since he couldn’t convince his wife to keep her in England in the first place. It seemed like a good hobby for Kotomi to let herself breathe and have fun with. “And if he saw you dance, well, I think her would be kissing the ground you walked on.” Kotomi merely laughs as a group of shy young girls and a few boys enter the room, politely greeting Madoka and Kotomi. Today was for beginners, ages 13-15.  


“I highly doubt that.” Madoka glances with a smile as Kotomi turns to set up Madoka’s I-Phone to the speaker, knowing that the teen wouldn’t notice how the boys in the group stared at her as she walked by.  


“Oh, little Kotomi, you have no idea…”


	2. Curiouser and Curiouser!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Curiouser and curiouser!” Cried Alice (she was so much surprised, that for the moment she quite forgot how to speak good English).”
> 
> ― Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass
> 
> Kotomi makes an a last-second decision, and gets to know her classmates a little better. It's not say that she's so much open, but rather, she's too curious to walk away from it now. She wanted answers, even if she doesn't quite know what the question is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or its characters, all the content belongs to Tadatoshi Fujimaki, and published by Shueisha. I do not make any profit on this work, and I only own my characters. Please support the official release.**
> 
> I had to do so much research on how the Japanese school system is.

“Join the literature club!”

“The volleyball club!”

“Join Teiko’s swim cl- “

“Soccer club is great for your relationships!” Kotomi dodges the incoming upperclassmen with their fliers and clipboards, whining a little as she tries to keep up with Fujita’s long strides. She wasn’t able to tell with him sitting down, nor during the time that she was more focused on getting to her class, but Fujita was tall. Or as he put it, “180 centimeters and still growing!” It was no wonder he liked basketball.

“Why aren’t they coming for you?” Fujita grins, opening his arms.

“I could always give you a piggyback ri—”

“Oh, there’s the basketball team.”

“For real!? Yes! Where is it?” Fujita looks around frantically, practically heaving with excitement, before he notices that the club Kotomi had pointed to was, in fact, the Chess Club. When he turns back to tease his friend about her poor vision, he notices that his small friend was missing. “Fujisaki-chan? Oh no, I’ve lost her!” He turns to the nearest person he could find, shouting much louder than is necessary. “Excuse me! Have you seen a small Japanese British girl!?”

Kotomi snickers as she could still hear Fujita’s voice several feet away, having blended in with a group of girls heading for the soccer team to slip away. Her friend brought out her penchant for mischief, only because she found it as fun to tease him as he did with her. However, she would make it up to him by finding the basketball team, right after she joined the kendo team. Luckily, it was much closer than she thought it would be, breaking off from her fake entourage to walk towards the group of young men and women at the booth.

“Teiko’s basketball team! Come join the club for champions!” Kotomi’s head swiveled around at the sound of this, her eyes wide in shock. Oh, I suppose it was closer than I originally thought…

“I’ll tell Fujita-kun after I…” Kotomi stops walking, earning herself confused looks from the people behind her as they move past her to continue while she stares at her feet. Why was it that people were so passionate about basketball? What’s so great about it, anyway? What could be fun about it? Why did her brothers enjoy it so much? Why would anyone want to join the basketball club? Why would she-

“Are you alright?” Her head shoots up as she looks up, finding herself staring at an upperclassman with dark hair and silvery blue eyes. He seems shocked when her eyes pop up to meet his, but his teammates seem even more shocked; small pink flushes graced their faces, including the captain, though his is less pronounced.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I…I was…” The student sitting in the middle furrows his brows, tilting his head, while his teammates seem to panic, just a little.

“Sorry..we…our English is…” The student struggles with his words a little, though his English is pretty clear.

“No, I speak Japanese! It’s okay. Sorry.” What was she doing? Why was she here? Curses, her feet must have carried her here.

“Oh, that’s a relief. Alright, well, were you looking to apply for a manager position? We’re recruiting managers as well. I’m Nijimura, Teiko’s captain.” The captain smiles and offers her a manager’s form, which Kotomi takes out of sheer shock of her situation.

“Oh, thank you, but I…”

“You can just bring it back at our try-outs if you have to go. We’ll need help with the technical stuff, so dress comfortably. Once you’re officially on the team, you’ll get a jersey.”

“I—”

“Fujisaki-chan!” Fujita comes bounding in on his legs, and the captain and his teammates become suddenly more interested in this tall, promising newcomer. “You just left me behind!” Without another word, Kotomi darts away, clutching the application form to her chest. Her friend almost follows but is stopped by Nijimura.

“Hey, you aren’t bothering her, right?”

“What!? No! She’s my friend! I lost her in the crowd. I guess she’s just overwhelmed and wanted to get out quickly. It’s her first time in Japan in a while.” The three basketball players look at each other, the two standing behind Nijimura seeming to get excited at the prospect.

“She was crazy cute! And she speaks English!”

“A total cutie! You her boyfriend, or something?” Fujita turns completely red, shaking his head and waving his hands frantically.

“N-no, no, no way! We sat next to each other at opening ceremony! We just met! I’ve just been showing her around!” Nijimura suddenly stands and whacks his team members on the head, causing Fujita to cringe in sympathy. He’s definitely felt that before.

“Quit making him uncomfortable! We don’t scare away recruits!” Fujita cringed again at his yelling. This captain looked scary…

“Expected of Teiko…everything about this school is intimidating.”

~

Kotomi searches for the nearest trash can, planning to throw away her form before she can have second thoughts. She wasn’t interested. She just didn’t know how to process everything around her. She shouldn’t have walked ahead of Fujita. When she finally finds a recycling bin, Kotomi is just about crumple up the form before she stops herself, staring at the blank lines and the katakana spelling “Basketball” in the corner. She bites her lip. It wasn’t as if she was clueless about basketball, but she didn’t have a healthy relationship with it. It wasn’t far off to say she hated basketball. Not because of any technical reason, or for a bitterness left behind for a team she bet on to win, no.

“A stupid sport tore my family apart…” It burned her lips to even speak this truth no one else knew of, knowing that the crowd wouldn’t notice her.

“Excuse me?” Kotomi doesn’t jump this time, though she does inhale sharply, turning around to face whoever was addressing her. She snaps out of her deep thoughts when she recognizes the crimson red irises of her classmate.

“Oh, yes?”

“Fujisaki…san, wasn’t it? You’re in my homeroom.”

“Oh, yes. Akashi-san isn’t it?” The young man smiles charmingly. It was the smile of a practiced socialite, and somehow it unnerved Kotomi that she was reminded of herself looking at him.

“That’s right. Thank you for remembering me.” Kotomi laughs a little at this. What an odd thing to say to a stranger. “I was just wondering where you got that form.” He gestures to the form in her hands.

“Oh, just past the cooking club, there’s still a boy with dyed blonde hair there. He’s very hard to miss at the booth.”

“I see, thank you very much…are you going to be a manager?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” Wasn’t she going to throw it away?

“I see, well, I hope to see you there. I would like to get to know a fellow classmate better.” Kotomi nods, smiling softly.

“Well then, perhaps I’ll have to come just to see you again.” Akashi looks quite surprised at this bold statement, and in all honesty, while it was in part just lip service there was some truth to it. He came from a similar world. It would be beneficial to build connections, and pleasant to be able to relate to someone. From what her grandfather told her, the Akashi family was quite strict, and she knew a thing or two about that. Akashi’s surprise turns to another smile, though there’s something warmer about.

“I hope that you do.” And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. Kotomi glances down at her application again, taking a deep breath and folding up the paper, putting it away into her purse before she decides to return to the kendo booth. She might as well pick up the form as well, just in case. Besides, she left Fujita back at the booth…

Bump.

“Owch…” Kotomi grabs her shoulder when she feels something hit her arm, looking to the side the sudden assault came from.

“Sorry…” A young man with powder blue eyes and hair to match, as well as a youthful baby face, stops briefly to look at her. She stares right back at him, a little shocked. Oddly enough, there was something similar registering in his empty stare, as if he was surprised to see her. “Are you alright?” Kotomi rubs her shoulder and shrugs. She simply waves away his apology, nodding politely before continuing on her way, though he seems to follow behind her, though he was just probably moving in the same direction.

“Fujisaki-chan!” Fujita finally catches up with her, stopping her as he waves a basketball club flier in her face excitedly. “The captain just told me! You’re thinking about being a manager? You know about basketball? Why didn’t you tell me??”

“I’m still not sure yet, silly. I’m not very passionate about basketball.”

“Ehh!? But basketball is so cool!” Fujita scoffs, but then brightens. “Well, you’ll just have to join and see exactly what I’m talking about, won’t you?” Kotomi giggles, looking up at him, though still uncertain. Fujita had his own flow about him, it was hard not to get sucked in. She liked that about him.

“Well now, when you say it like that, I’ll have to give it a try at least, right?”

“Great! Let’s fill them out right here and turn them in, alright?”

“Right!”

“…Do you have a pen?”

~

Kotomi falls back onto her bed, still sweating from her dance practice. Once school picked up pace, she would only be assistant instructing and dancing on the weekends, just as she promised her grandfather. He cared more about her enjoying her adolescence than his wife, but he still thought school was important. But it was still more than she could ask for, considering her position. Thinking back on the last few days, Kotomi can’t help but smiling. Fujita made her lunch and her breaks endlessly fun. He was so energetic, he reminded her so much of one of her best friends, Nissa.

Then there were the two interesting boys in her class. Akashi Seijuro and the green haired boy. There was something about them that intrigued her. She wondered what kind of people she’d be meeting in Japan, and she has yet to be disappointed. The only thing plaguing her now was…her eyes travel over to her bag, which contained the basketball club’s try-out information. She had already turned in her application form, but she had to come to the try outs anyway. If only to see if the Teiko team really was as formidable as Fujita claimed.

“Curiouser and curiouser, Alice cried…”

~

“Welcome to the Teiko basketball team try outs!” Kotomi hurries inside, slipping off her outdoor shoes and changing into her gymnasium shoes. Madoka had done her laundry for her last night, but had forgotten to dry her hoodie and leggings, which Kotomi had to dry herself, making her late to the try-outs. Fujita was already in the line-up, spotting Kotomi first and waving excitedly to her, grinning in a way that lightened Kotomi’s slightly dampened mood. There was already a small group of people bustling around with towels and water bottles, and she felt guilty for coming in so late.

“Hey!” Captain Nijimura approached her with a friendly smile. Despite Fujita’s likely exaggerated description of the third year, he didn’t seem at all intimidating.

“Hello, I’m so sorry I’m late. I look forward to working with you.” Kotomi bows slightly to him, remembering that Ichiro reminded her of the respect hierarchy of senpai and kouhai.

“It’s no trouble at all. In fact, you came at the perfect time,” Nijimura hands Kotomi a clipboard with a list of names, belonging to those trying out, Kotomi could only assume. “You can help you by helping Momoi-san keep track of those trying out. Just how many layups they’re getting and the number of side jumps, it’s listed there what you need to record. You can handle that, right?”

“Yes, of course.” Kotomi brandishes her pen and begins to walk to the benches as the captain calls for the players to attention. The first thing she notices is a tall boy with purple hair, yawning with a sleepy look in his eyes.

He’s taller than Fujita…so as long as he doesn’t trip over himself…he’s likely guaranteed a spot, isn’t that right? Kotomi seems to ask no one in her head before she turns her attention back to the benches.

She meets with a cute pink-haired girl with a clipboard of her own. She looks up and smiles brightly at her, which Kotomi returns with a soft, polite smile of her own before she sits down.

“Hello!”

“Hello…my name is Fujisaki Kotomi.”

“Ah, then I’m Momoi Satsuki! Is this your first time being a manager?”

“You could tell…?”

“No, Fujita-san was talking to us about you earlier.”

“Us…?”

“Ah, my friend is trying out today, too.” She points to a tanned young man with dark blue hair and eyes, who is chatting with Fujita.

“Ah, I see. Well, best of luck to the both of them, right?” Momoi giggles.

“Oh, I don’t think Dai-chan needs much luck…”

“Dai-chan…?” What an odd name… Perhaps a lot has changed since she was last in Japan.

“Anyway, the group will be split into two, so I’ll take care of the left side, you take care of the right. They’re standing in alphabetical order, so just move down the lower half starting at M, sound good?”

“Understood.”

“Mou, Fujisaki-chan, you speak so formally, it’s cute!” Kotomi can only offer a small smile. She couldn’t remember a time that she didn’t speak formally, so for her it was normal.

Kotomi’s thoughts are interrupted when she spots a several familiar faces as they pass her, the large group broken down into two groups at each end of the court, lining up for some light warm-up layups. Akashi Seijuro, the green haired boy from her homeroom, whose name she gathered was Midorima Shintaro. She recognized the family name as a doctor’s, though her family hasn’t had contact with anyone sharing the last name.

On the other side of the court, Fujita and this “Dai-chan” that Momoi spoke of. Kotomi’s eyes scan over all of them, her mind already working as her hands to move down the line every time she saw someone make a basket. She watches their form very closely. She had done some research and using what she remembered from learning from her brothers’ training, she wrote down in the margins by their names some notes, only to keep her mind stimulated.

Maeda: slow to turn on his left foot. Expect slower side jumps when he’s jumping to the left.

Tanaka: broad shoulders, and he is not afraid of fouling. He would be good at screening, perhaps rebounding. Jump is powerful, too.

 

Midorima: has a good sense of distance. His layups are a little farther out than everyone else’s, but he is just as accurate.

Akashi: form is perfect. No hesitation. Potential star player.

Ueda: hops a little extra right before a layup. He should work on concealing that, or he might give himself away during a match.

Kotomi is so caught up in her self-assigned homework that she fails to notice Momoi glancing down, eyes widening at how much she was observing after just a few layups and how she was multitasking so well. And neither girl notices the eyes fixating on the both of them, for a number of different reasons.

~

After several warm ups and basic drills, Kotomi looks down and realizes just how much she’s written, practically covering the margins. She puffs her cheeks out in annoyance towards herself, unable to erase it, since she wrote in pen.

“What should I do…? Surely this is overstepping boundaries…”

“You sure wrote quite a lot, Fujisaki-chan. Do you do that a lot in school?”

“Well, during my supplemental lessons with my tutors, yes, but grandmother scolds me on it. I see why now…this paper is a mess. I’ll just rerecord the numbers on another form.”

“…. Fujisaki-chan, are you a fugitive princess, or something?”

“Eh!? Why do you ask?” Kotomi looks to Momoi incredulously, who’s somewhere in between a laugh and shock.

“Oh, no reason! Rewrite the paper after we give out water and towels, alright?” The both of them set their clipboards down, moving to the center of the gym, where the other managers have set out water bottle holders and a fresh set of towels. Fujita is the first to approach Kotomi, sweaty but excited.

“Fujisaki-chan! Isn’t this great? Aren’t I playing so well?”

“Your layups are very good, but you shouldn’t waste energy and time on bouncing so much in the center during your side jumps. Also, you might be able to dunk more cleanly if you started a little closer to the net.”

“Ah—!? You’re supposed to cheer me on!”

“I am, but I want you to do your best as well. You’ll have to do better for first string.”

“You say it so matter of fact that I can’t even be upset…” Fujita whines, taking a long drink from the water bottle. “I don’t know if you’re an angel or some kind of demon in disguise…”

“Right now, I’m giving out water bottles,” Kotomi giggles, picking up another set and handing it to another player, who is staring directly at her, though her attention is averted elsewhere. “So, sit down and breathe, alright? They’re going to hold practice matches next.” Fujita offers her a 2 fingered salute, grinning wide and heading to the benches. Kotomi is reaching down to prepare another water bottle and towel, coming face to face with none other than Akashi Seijuro once more.

“Fujisaki-san, we seem to keep running into each other. I’m glad you came to help the team out.”

“I thought something new would stimulate me more than if were to just continue with what I’m used to. Besides, your form is quite lovely, Akashi-san. Though I am not an expert in basketball.”

“Really? From what you were telling your friend,” There’s genuine surprise in Akashi’s voice. “you seem quite versed in the subject at hand.”

“Ah, well, my…family likes basketball, and I did some light research. It’s much more strategic than I thought it was. It’s quite enjoyable.” Akashi’s eyes seem to light up a little when she says this, but his smile only grows.

“How insightful. I would like to hear more another time, if you’ll allow it.”

“I don’t see why not. But for now, please rest well.” She bows a little to him. Akashi returns the bow and retreats to the benches as well. Not long after, Kotomi looks up again to see Midorima, his free hand out for the towel and water bottle, the other occupied by a sock monkey plush. Kotomi hands him his well-earned reward with a friendly smile, though the gesture remains unreturned.

“Good work out there. I hope your little friend enjoyed watching you all play as much as I did.” Midorima scoffs, turning his away from her.

“My Lucky Item is not a friend. I got it from Oha-Asa—”

“Fujisaki-san, could you get more water bottles from the locker room?”

“Ah, yes!” Kotomi turns to him with a smile. “Sorry to interrupt you, but I’d like to know more sometime? We can talk more about Oha-Asa again. It sounds interesting.” She hurries off, not wanting to keep any of the players waiting. Fujita runs up to grab a towel for another player, though he bumps into Midorima’s back on the way up.

“Whoa! Sorry, dude! Uh, you okay…” Midorima finally snaps out of his trance and turns to glare at Fujita, though the bright red across his cheeks hardly made him any kind of intimidating presence.

“Watch where you’re going—!”

“Gah! I-I’m sorry!”

~

On her way out, Kotomi spots yet another familiar face by the bathroom. It was the powder blue haired boy she had bumped into. She only recognized him because she almost overlooked him again, only noticing him because he was heaving, his head hanging low his entire body moving with the effort of his breathing. Kotomi picks up a water bottle from its holder, approaching him.

“Ah, you should take a deep breath in and out with your nose, slowly as possible. You should close your eyes, as well.” The young man looks up at her, then nods, taking a deep breath as instructed and closing her eyes. Kotomi stands beside him and pats his back, handing him the water bottle. “Try not to throw up, or you’ll lose some of your energy. And don’t sit down until the spinning stops.”

“Thank you very much…” He glances up at her, still seeming worn, but better than he looked a minute ago.

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse or take a break. It doesn’t seem like it’s healthy for you to—”

“No, that’s alright. I’ll keep going.” He stands up completely, turning away from her. “I saw you at the club fair…”

“Oh, yes. I remember you too.”

“…I see. You’re going to be a manager?”

“…Well…I haven’t quite decided on whether or not I’m going to stay.” He glances back at her, and for a moment both their gazes are quite intense. Kotomi had never met a teenager this stoic before. It was throwing her off.

“I think you should. It might be good for you. Thank you again for your help.” That throws Kotomi off completely now. ‘Good for her?’ What was that supposed to mean? It almost offends her that he would say something like that so bluntly.

“I see.” Is all she can say. The boy bows to her again before returning to the court, and Kotomi is left for a few seconds to ponder what in the world just happened. Kotomi thought herself a master of conversation, despite her young age. Her grandmother demanded it. She knew exactly how to turn a conversation to her favor, but for once in her 13 years of life, she is left speechless by a boy who was just about a few seconds from throwing up on the gymnasium floor before she approached him.

“…Pffft,” Kotomi covers her mouth, holding back her giggle, which was quickly bubbling over into a laugh. What an interesting person…

“Fujisaki-san?” Kotomi turns around to face the voice of Nijimura, who looks confused. “Something wrong?”

“Oh, no, sorry, I just remembered something quite funny, is all…can I help with something? I’m coming back with the water now, and then I have to redo the stats from try-outs—”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” Nijimura holds up the clipboard she had left earlier, containing all her margin notes about every player, and Kotomi can feel the tips of her ears turn red with shame. “These are your notes, right?”

“Yes, captain. I’m sorry, I suppose I got carried away. I was going to rewrite the data on a clean sheet of paper and I can throw—”

“Actually, I wanted you to head up to the rafters with the head coach and relay what you’re seeing to him,” He’s still looking at the paper, so he doesn’t see Kotomi’s bewildered face. “What you wrote here is really interesting. I want him to hear what you have to say.” Kotomi recovers as quickly as she can manage, nodding eagerly.

“I’ll do just that, then.” She bows to him and hurries up to the higher levels, looking around for this head coach. Supposed she should have asked for a name or a description…?

“Fujisaki-san was it?” An elderly man with slicked back, graying hair in a suit approaches Kotomi, hands folded politely behind his back as he smiles amicably at her, though there’s more than just amicability. His expression seemed one of intrigue. He was going to test her. Kotomi bows politely. “Shirogane, I’m Teiko’s head coach. A pleasure. I’ve been watching you.”

“Me, sir?”

“The players all seem to have just a little more energy after interacting with you. Perhaps your presence refreshes them. And more importantly, Nijimura showed me your notes on the players. I’d like to hear more of what you’re thinking…” He walks up to the rails and looks down as the first practice game begins.

“Just…talk…?”

“That’s correct. I’ll give you my thoughts when the matches are done.”

That’s over 50 minutes… Kotomi can’t contain her smile. An interesting challenge issued by an interesting man about a group of interesting people. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she nods excitedly.

“Number 13 is dribbling more with his right hand than it’s left. He’ll rarely go left, otherwise he’s too open to his opponents. He might be a fan of feints, since his opponents don’t know that.” As she’s saying this, the boy wearing the 13 jersey fakes going left before breaking into a sprint to the right, dribbling with his right hand.

“I see, keep going.”

“Number 7 passed to number 9, just now, even though number 27 was open and easier to access. Number 7 and number 9 likely know each other to some capacity, and they trust each other. They will pass to each other.” Kotomi’s eyes drift over to a familiar head of crimson red, watching him closely. Akashi’s movements are so graceful, as if he were gliding and the ball was a marionette, string attached to his hand. But she notices how the coach is watching Akashi closely, and she knows she doesn’t need to say anything to convince him he was worthy of being on the team.

“Do you like basketball, Fujisaki-san?” Kotomi pauses, gauging how she should answer such a question. With a man like this, she shouldn’t lie. In this case, honesty is the best policy.

“No. Actually, I quite dislike it. To answer your question of why I’m here, I’m not too sure, myself. Perhaps I hope to find my answer. But…I see a lot of potential for practicing strategy. And I enjoy the challenge of…well…”

“Moving the pieces around?” Kotomi looks up at him, eyes wide. She wasn’t going to say that, but it was more accurate in his words.

“Yes, something like that.”

“There is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not uncommon for someone to want an answer for their feelings, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting to learn something from a new experience. There’s no need to be so tense around me. I understand that winner’s mentality very well. That is precisely why I take this club so seriously. I aim to win.” Coach Shirogane places his hands behind his back once again, smiling at Kotomi. “That’s why I think you should be a manager and a strategist for the second and third strings.” Kotomi’s mouth falls upon, unable to contain her absolute confusion in what this strange man was telling her.

“E-Eh….? But, isn’t a manager just a manager who gets the towels, water bottles, takes statistics…?”

“Managers support the team in any way they’re able. Every member of the team, from the coach, to the players to the managers play a pivotal role as part of a well-oiled machine. And some parts are bigger than others. I cannot tell you if you’ll find the answer to the question you’re looking for, but I can tell you that you might not ever find it here if you give up.”

If Kotomi could see herself now, she would be embarrassed by how brightly her eyes shone. There was a blooming warmth in her chest, one she hadn’t felt in such a long time. Respect…? Genuine, complete and utter respect for this man she’s known not even for 20 minutes. All because he seemed to understand her thoughts completely. Kotomi’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much as Shirogane turns to her, still smiling his serene smile, as if he knew this conclusion would come to pass. “Well, Fujisaki-san? Will you take the position?” Kotomi straightens her back and bows low at the waist, speaking loudly and clearly so he could hear her.

“Yes, sir! I look forward to working with you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! How will Kotomi fare as a manager? Why is she doing this in the first place? Will Fujita ever calm the hell down? Probably not to the second question. See you next time!


	3. Fate's Chance Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kotomi is just getting into her role as a manager when she realizes there may be more to her managerial duties than she previously thought. She finally gets to see her grandparents again, as well as interact with more than one of her more interesting targets of interest. If such interesting people were here, then maybe there was more to basketball than she thought?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes** So I actually have most of Chapter 4 written, so I think that chapter releases will start coming a little slower now, but hopefully the quality will only get better as I write more. I can't wait until the gang's all together, how about you? Enjoy!!
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or its characters, all the content belongs to Tadatoshi Fujimaki, and published by Shueisha. I do not make any profit on this, and I only own my characters. Please support the official release.**

***

“I will now be announcing the players in the third string.” Kotomi helps clean up the gym while listening to the results, trying to remain within ear shot. She could see Fujita almost vibrating in place with excitement. From what she saw of his performance, she would say that he would most certainly be in second string, and perhaps with practice and dedication, he would make it into first.

“Kuroko Tetsuya.” Kotomi perks up a little when she sees the power blue haired boy walk over to the third string’s coach. In all honesty, that was a surprise to her. He gave it his all, but that’s all that could really be said about him. He wasn’t, in any sense of the word, fit for basketball. Deserving? Perhaps, for he seemed like a hard worker, but deserving meant nothing in a world of competition. He seems quite disappointed, and Kotomi feels a pang of sympathy for him, and yet she firmly believes he was lucky to even make third string.

“I will now announce the second string.” Kotomi isn’t surprised when she hears Fujita’s name called, though she is surprised when she hears him shout.

“Yes! First string, here I come! Hear that, Fujisaki-chan!?” Kotomi’s hand meets her face as she tries to pretend she can’t hear him, staring at the ground and pretending that she’s sweeping away a particularly stubborn dust ball. She breathes a soft sigh of relief, though she can’t help the small turn of her lips when one of the coaches scolds him, telling him to calm down and hurry up. She hears Momoi giggling too, which doesn’t help her trying to contain her own giggles.

“And now for the first string.” This time, Kotomi’s head pops up all the way, eyes wide. She wasn’t too informed on Teiko’s basketball history, but she knew from her brief chats with Momoi that first string was almost impossible for first years.

“Akashi Seijuro. Aomine Daiki. Midorima Shintaro. Murasakibara Atsushi.” The strange, multi-colored hair crew of first years standing before them had outshined every other player on the court to be sure, but Kotomi could not hide her awe, standing at staring at all of them, a big smile spreading across her lips while her eyes shined with intrigue.

_If these players were to be on court together, who knows what they could accomplish?_ But her smile fades seconds later when she realizes that she was to be the manager for the second and third strings. Her grandmother would be furious, she could already see it. Lady Cordelia Reinwalt is not the type for a petty phone call to the school, but she would push Kotomi endlessly to become first string’s manager to be sure by any means necessary, even subterfuge. There was a fine line in her grandmother’s morality, and Kotomi was still trying to figure out exactly where that line was drawn.

“A product of your bloodline is not accidentally second in any sense of the word.” She would say. Technically, she wasn’t  _assigned_ to be a manager for any team, but coach Shirogane made it perfectly clear about where she would be spending most of her time, and the second and third string teams did not practice in the same gymnasiums, so unfortunately, she wouldn’t be able to see them play. It isn’t as if her grandmother would find out anytime soon, but hopefully if she performed well enough, she could work more closely with the first string. Just another challenge to stimulate her.

~

“Ahh, it’s over, it’s over!” Fujita stretches hard as he’s walking out, Kotomi walking beside him. “If try outs were that brutal, practice is going suuuck!”

“You’re excited about it though, Fujita-kun.”

“Yeah I am! I mean, I was really hoping for first string, but I think when my success story is on the news after I’ve gone pro, the story of my struggles will be more dramatic, this way!” Kotomi giggles, covering her mouth.

“Ah, yes, of course. I can’t wait to be the best friend who always believed in him,” She puts a hand against her forehead. “Watching him grow was such an inspiration!” Her friend laughs.

“I think I’ll record that and keep it for my children to watch!” Kotomi rolls her eyes and laughs again. “Anyway, you want to hit up a convenience store or something? Let’s get some ice cream.”

“Oh, I actually have to head home and pack for the weekend. I’m going to visit my grandparents.”

“Your master Kendo fighter grandpa? Can you talk to him for my brother!?”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Kotomi glances up at him with a smile. Fujita fist pumps, hopping up and down excitedly.

“My brother is going to freak!”

“Ehehe, you’re like a kid like this, Fujita-kun.”

“W-Wha…? I’m older than you! Hey, don’t laugh!” Fujita tries to give Kotomi a light shove with his shoulder, which she effectively dodges, still giggling, while a pair of crimson eyes watches Kotomi’s back from the entrance of the gymnasium.

~

If there was one thing Kotomi remembered most vividly about Japan, it was the cherry blossoms. They seemed brighter in Kyoto, at least to her. Perhaps the picnics with her family, happier times in her life, gave her rose-colored visions of the blossoms, who were approaching the end of their short lifespan in full bloom. Her grandparents’ estate rested in the more rural areas of Kyoto. Her family’s history could be traced all the way back to the feudal period, her ancestors holding noble status, and therefore her family owned a lot of land in those areas. As she watches out the window of the car, driven by Suoh, her grandparents’ driver, she takes solace in the quiet of the countryside, though she had quickly grown fond of the bustle of Tokyo’s insomniac streets.

“We’ve arrived, Fujisaki-ojou.” Kotomi reaches for her bags after she’s exiting the car, though Suoh beats her to the punch, picking up the luggage.

_Ah, that’s right, I’m a lady again. Everything gets done for me,_ she muses with a slightly bored expression. It was back to the usual, at least for this weekend. As she’s approaching the front of the estate, Kotomi pats down skirt and fixes her hair. Her father’s grandparents were by no means anywhere as strict as her grandmother, but not as loving and accepting as her grandfather. They were distant, but they loved her. And she reciprocated those feelings. Kotomi straightens up as the door opens, revealing a lovely older woman, dark hair tied neatly into a bun, and warm brown irises with some wrinkles on the skin of her eyes, though her face was still quite youthful and even pretty for 75 years old.

“Kotomi, welcome back.”

“Thank you,  _Sobo-sama_ , I’m home.” Kotomi removes her shoes and immediately slips her indoor shoes on as she’s walking in. Her grandmother places a gentle, guiding hand around her shoulder, the most affectionate her grandmother gets, and leads her to the main room where an older man sat with a book open in front of him. While he looked more his age, with grayed hair and a stern, wrinkled face, whispers of a handsome youth ghosted over his features. He looks up at Kotomi, nodding to her once. Kotomi’s eyes wander over to the two  _bokken,_ wooden swords shaped like  _katana,_ sitting in the corner.

“ _Sofu-sama,_ it pleases me to see you in good health.” The elder man nods, returning to his book.

“Suoh will place your things in your room, why don’t you sit and have some tea?”

“Thank you, I will.” A young woman with kind eyes and a messy bun hurries in, pouring some tea for the three of them. Ito Hanako, the adult daughter of Kotomi’s caretaker and Kotomi’s grandparents’ head maid growing up, when all the adults in her life were busy. The young woman, who was even a playmate of Kotomi’s for a time, smiles up her politely, though even she has a distance about her.

“Welcome back, Ojou-sama.” Kotomi smiles politely and nods.

“Thank you, Ito-san.” There is a silence so suffocating that any stranger unaccustomed to the rigidity of the Fujisakis would be inching for the door as Ito pours the tea, leaving them with some snacks before bowing and disappearing. Kotomi’s grandmother sips at her tea for a long moment before turning to Kotomi.

“How is Teiko? Are you adjusting well?”

“Well enough. Nothing has challenged me quite yet.”

“I heard that Akashi Masaomi’s son is attending.”

“Yes, he’s in my homeroom. Along with a…Midorima?” Her grandfather grunts softly, nodding and turning a page in his book.

“The Midorima family owns a few hospitals, one in Kyoto, as well. They treated one of my students. They are…effective.” Kotomi almost feels compelled to tell Midorima this. Such a statement from her grandfather was considered the highest praise.

“I see. Speaking of your students,  _Sofu-sama,_ I met a fellow classmate whose brother practices kendo. He wants to be a student of yours.” Her grandfather seems uninterested, not even glancing up.

“Did you two meet at the kendo team?” Kotomi’s heart skips a beat. Should she mention that she didn’t join the kendo club? They didn’t particularly like her grandmother in England, so they wouldn’t report it, but she knew how they felt about basketball. Her grandmother seems to sense her apprehension, as she sets her tea cup down, folding her hands politely in her lap.

“Is there something you would like to tell us, granddaughter?” Ah, there it was. No backing out now. A lie now would only dig her deeper into this hole she’s made for herself.

“I…didn’t join the kendo club.” Two pairs of brown eyes are suddenly on her. “I joined…the basketball team. As a manager.” Kotomi suddenly wants to run for the door in the silence that ensues. This tension was too much, even for her. It’s almost a relief when her grandfather finally speaks, even if she knows his tone is not a happy one.

“I know you realize why we would disapprove of this.”

“Do your mother’s parents know of this?”

“Not yet…”

“But you didn’t plan on telling her.” Kotomi flinches when she hears her grandfather’s book close.

“It won’t get in the way of my studies. The head coach wants me to be a strategist, I’m not just getting water bottles or towels.” This seems to appease them, if only a little.

“I thought you hated basketball.”

“I…dislike the actions my brothers took because of their passion for it. But I have no passion for it. I have you,  _Sofu-sama,_ to challenge me in kendo. And  _Sobo-sama_ teaches me the arts far better than any instructor at Teiko can. I wanted something new to challenge me. It’s…boring, otherwise. I want to start distinguishing what is a waste of my talents and what isn’t. I can’t let people keep doing it for me.”  _In other words,_ Kotomi pleads in her head,  _please, please don’t tell Grandmother Cordelia._

“Well, when you reason like that…”

“We can very well let you decide for yourself what is a waste and what is not.”

“And this news will not leave the confines of Japan.” Her grandmother finishes, nodding in approval. Kotomi visibly relaxes when she hears this, taking a deep, shaky breath. Her grandfather stands up, picking up the  _bokken_ lying in the corner, and tossing one to her.

“As for your friend, I will consider giving his brother a test, if you can best me in a quick match.” Kotomi stands, nodding once, relieved that her grandparents were more understanding, if not more lenient. Now, to win Fujita’s brother that audience…

~

Kotomi flinches when she picks up the book with her bruised hand, almost dropping it with how she flinches. She narrowly won against her grandfather, but she didn’t come out unscathed. While he would never advise his students to practice without the protective gear for legal reasons, as his granddaughter, Kotomi was a special exception. He wasn’t teaching her only for sport, though he did enjoy watching her improve and best him.

In his eyes, pain is not nearly as frightening as the impending threat of pain. He had Kotomi spar without gear, so that she would not be afraid of being struck wearing the gear. It was his strict way of showing concern, that Kotomi understood, though that didn’t mean she enjoyed it. Kotomi nurses her bruised wrist as she looks among the sports section, surprised that the selection on basketball was so small. It was a small bookstore, and she didn’t want to wait for ordering a book, nor did she want to send Suoh out to get it for her. Kotomi spots a regulation book on professional basketball, deciding it was the closest she would get, reaching for it. She’s shocked, however, when a slightly longer arm reaches her destination first, plucking the book from the shelf.

“Fujisaki-san?” Kotomi turns around to face the newcomer, quite surprised to see Akashi Seijuro all the way out here in a small town in Kyoto.

“Akashi-san? What are you doing here?”

“Ah, I accompanied my father who has some business to take care of in the city. I decided on the way that I wanted some new reading material for the rest of the trip back and stopped by here to pick up a book to read on the way back to Tokyo.” He smiles handsomely at her, and Kotomi notices a book in his other hand, though she can’t read the title from here. “Strange how we always seem to meet with each other.”

“I agree. Oh, thank you for the help.” Though she didn’t necessarily need it, Kotomi pouts to herself. She almost had it. Akashi hands her the book, which she takes and tucks under her arm for safekeeping. “Congratulations, by the way. Making first string in your first year, it’s quite impressive.” Akashi chuckles, waving it off nonchalantly.

“Thank you, but it was expected of me.” Ah, well, that’s a sentiment she could relate to. Success for people like herself and Akashi, it was supposed to come as naturally as breathing, though she had her close calls. “But your friend Fujita was quite interesting. He’s loud, isn’t he? It’s a little strange to see him with someone like you.” Kotomi tilts her head.

“Like me…?’

“Ah, no, sorry. That wasn’t meant to be a slight.”

“I didn’t think so, I just don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, you seem quiet, and he has a lot of energy.” Kotomi laughs just remembering how he was scolded right after making the team, having to cover her mouth with her free hand. Akashi’s polite smile fades when he notices the bruise, an ugly discoloration of blue and purple in comparison to her otherwise pale and flawless skin.

“He is, but I quite enjoy that about him. It’s refreshing to see someone, well, who’s...not like me.” That doesn’t sit well with Akashi, but he plays it off, suddenly now more interested in Kotomi’s wrist.

“What happened to you?”

“Hm?”

“Your wrist…that’s quite an ugly mark.” Kotomi blinks several times. Ugly…?

“Oh, it’s just a mark from sparring. My grandfather asked me to practice with him.” Akashi relaxes a little, though he expected that someone of her background couldn’t have been assaulted with malicious intention without any kind of backlash.

“Ah yes, he’s a martial arts instructor, is he not?”

“You’ve heard of my grandfather?” This time Akashi blinks, as if he wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.

“Oh, course I know of him. It’s difficult to find anyone who doesn’t at least recognize the Fujisaki name.”

“Right, my apologies. I recognized you too, but I wasn’t sure if you recognized me.”

“Well, you, per se, but your name, I did. I apologize for not introducing myself properly in class. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile, and my father is making it difficult.”

“Is that so?”

“I had to instruct my driver to drop me off before the school gates for the first week of school. I was sure to be harassed if people saw me being dropped off like a child like that.” Kotomi laughs, and Akashi is surprised that she understood his joking tone, though it doesn’t register externally. “Anyway, Fujisaki-san, I was wondering, if your grandfather is a martial arts instructor, why not join kendo? Why the basketball team, where you can’t compete?” Kotomi seems unprepared for this question, seeming to purse her lips and think on it, on what she should tell him.

“I…joined the basketball team on a whim. Life has been rather boring for me, lately. I was hoping that a more passive role would give me a chance to hone some skills I don’t get to sharpen often.” Kotomi feels some pride when she sees the approval in Akashi’s smile, hoping that would be the end of his questioning.

“A win is not as satisfying if it’s easy, isn’t that right?”

“Exactly.” Akashi chuckles just a bit.

“I for one am not complaining. I think you’re good for morale.”

_Just like Coach Shirogane said…_

“You have a presence about you that draws people in. It intrigues people, including myself. That’s why I’m glad you’re here, and I look forward to working with you.” Kotomi bows at this, nodding her head towards him.

“I look forward to working with you.” Kotomi looks up and spots a man at the entrance of the book store, nodding towards Akashi, who nods in return.

“I’m afraid I must be going…ah, would it be presumptuous of me to ask for your e-mail? Since we’ll be in contact with each other every now and again, I’d like to make good on that promise to get to know a fellow classmate, and teammate, better.” Without waiting for a response, Akashi is pulling out his phone, and Kotomi follows suit.

“Of course. I look forward to seeing what you’ll accomplish in the future.” Akashi smiles at her.

“Well, I can’t disappoint now, can I?”

~

As Akashi steps into his car, glancing out the tinted windows to watch the raven-heard teen walk over to the register to pay for her book, he can’t help but smile a little. It truly was a coincidence that he was driving through this rural area, but he can’t help but feel that something bigger was at play upon meeting her. It was the same feeling he got looking at the other first years who made first string. Akashi chuckles to himself, watching as his car starts and Kotomi steps out, new book in hand, continuing down the street.

“This is bound to be quite an interesting 3 years…”

~

When the school week comes again, Kotomi finds herself on her phone more and more often than she ever had before. She had been in constant contact with Akashi all weekend, though there were long pauses between exchanges, considering how busy he was, and she was also taking the time to chat with Fujita. Akashi seemed as busy as she would be in England, following his father and his supplemental courses. It was strange that Kotomi almost missed that bustle from place to place, from instructor to instructor.

Though, she enjoyed being able to leisure and rest in between studying, practice, and dancing. They talked about things she didn’t get to discuss with people her age often. Literature, music, anything under the sun. It seemed as if Akashi didn’t have the same exposure to pop culture as Kotomi did, thanks to her time at the dance studio with Madoka. He claimed that he enjoyed reading about her explanations of “memes” and music, and Kotomi urged him to check some out. Fujita has been waiting with baited breath since he heard that Akashi Seijurou might potentially start sending her memes, looking over her shoulder whenever she’s on her phone, especially at lunch time.

“Do you think that he’ll understand what ‘shit-posting’ is?” Kotomi brushes the bread crumbs from Fujita’s sandwich off her shoulder, glaring slightly up at him.

“I haven’t explained it to him, yet.”

“Let me do it. I feel like you don’t get it either.”

“I’m going to take that sandwich from you if you don’t stop.” Fujita takes several steps back hugging his sandwich to his chest.

“Don’t you dare, Fujisaki.” Kotomi snickers a little, taking a bite of the bento Ito prepared for her.

“My, using no honorifics? Are we that familiar already?”

“If you try to take my sandwich, you’re an enemy. Enemies don’t get honorifics.”

“Okay, okay, please forgive me, Mr. Second String.”

“Hey, that stings.” The door to the rooftop opens, revealing Akashi, who scans the horizon of the rooftop, his eyes finally falling on Kotomi and Fujita, though he’s more interested in the former.

“Fujisaki-san, good afternoon. I brought my shogi board, and I was wondering if you wanted to play few rounds with me.”

“Oh, that sounds fun.” Fujita glances at Kotomi with furrowed brows.

“It does?”

“Fujita-san, was it? You’re welcome to join us. Loser gets replaced by whoever’s waiting for a turn.”

“Gee, as fun as that sounds…I gotta…do…do something. You go on, Kotomi.”

“Are you sure, Fujita-kun?”

“Positive. You guys have fun,” Fujita leans in and whispers in Kotomi’s ear. “but find out if he knows the “boneless pizza” meme.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, and I’ll see you at practice, Fujita-kun.”

“Fair enough. See you later!” He runs off without another word, passing Akashi as he heads down. Akashi smiles politely at Kotomi as she stands up, putting her empty bento away and following him down the stairs.

~

As Fujita bounds down the last staircase leading back into the school building, he slows down, his hand stopping on the doorknob. “Hang on…?”

“How did Akashi figure out where we were…?”

~

“I’ve already set up the board, I’ll let you go first.”

“How kind of you.” Kotomi smiles mischievously. She hasn’t had a good shogi game in a while. “Westerners aren’t very good at this game.”

“Really now? It’s not all that different from chess or checkers.” Akashi takes a seat across from her. “Really almost a combination of both.”

“Well, I’m positive you’ll pose a greater challenge than anyone in England.” Kotomi giggles, looking down at the board. In a bold move, she pushes her King piece forward a space on the nine by nine board. Akashi looks up at her with a raised brow.

“Feeling bold? Or am I being underestimated?” Kotomi smiles mischievously.

“Not at all. If anything, I feel that playing it safe would be an insult to you.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Perhaps…that I don’t know what to expect from you. You may be a shogi genius, or you’re completely inept, so I save my strongest piece for when I’m sure. But…by moving my strongest piece first, I’m giving you all my respect in one move.” Akashi looks surprised, not expecting a logical answer. She just kept surprising him.

“But isn’t that just being reckless?”

“Not if I’ve a plan.” Akashi’s eyes gleam with intrigue as he places his finger on his own King, moving forward a space as well.

“Well then, I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to win regardless of whether you’ve a plan or not.”

~

Midorima Shintaro carries around his pineapple piggy bank, his  _furoshiki_ containing his now empty bento. He was returning to the classroom early, hoping to get some peace and quiet before classes start again. As he’s reaching for the door knob, it opens by itself, revealing Fujisaki Kotomi, who is looking behind her, speaking to someone else inside the room.

“I’m just going to-oof!” She bumps her nose right into Midorima’s chest, which almost causes him to lose his Lucky Item for the day. “Oh! Midorima-san! So sorry!” Midorima’s face expresses shock, not by her sudden appearance, but by the precarious wobbling of his piggy bank. When he’s sure he’s not going to drop it, he glares at Kotomi, speaking sternly.

“Don’t just walk around without watching where you’re going! I could have dropped my Lucky Item!” Kotomi isn’t at all shocked by his upset, merely tilting her head and scrutinizing his prize possession for the day.

“I don’t understand, this is some kind of fortune telling type of obligation? Similar to carrying around a charm? I’m sorry, I was distracted.” Kotomi bows to him slightly, before looking back to the redhead still sitting in his chair before the shogi board, chin tucked in between his index finger in thumb. “Akashi-kun, I’m going to grab a drink.”

“Hn…” Kotomi smiles prettily at Midorima, who only stares on in bewilderment at her response to his anger. His confusion only annoyed him further, but her underwhelming reaction made him feel guilty for shouting at her, even if he still blamed her for almost destroying his Lucky Item. Unsure of what to do next, he looks to Akashi, who is still examining his board. What could have him so preoccupied? Curious, Midorima approaches the board, his eyes widening in shock at the formation of the board.

“ _Jishogi…” 1_ Akashi chuckles to himself, eyes wide in what could be awe or excitement. Midorima is floored. Of course, he had heart of both the Akashi and Fujisaki families, but in terms of the latter, Midorima only knew of the two sons until now. He was quite surprised to hear that they had a daughter as well when he heard her name called during the first day of classes. And now this daughter he’s never heard of had just  _tied_ with Akashi Seijurou in a game he was known for being a genius at. Was it just luck, or was this girl far more formidable than both her elder brothers? And not to mention, she was a manager on the basketball team? Why waste her time fetching water and writing down statistics? “Fujisaki Kotomi…who are you, exactly?” Another chuckle from Akashi brings the green haired teen back to focus.

“An interesting girl, indeed…”

~

Fujita digs his finger in his ear nonchalantly, despite the disgusted expressions of the other players as he stands with Kotomi, waiting for her to finish up.

“So? How was your little nerd date with Akashi Seijuro?”

“He isn’t a nerd and it wasn’t a date. Also, liking games like shogi don’t make you a nerd, don’t be rude.”

“Yes ma’am…but, hm…” Kotomi finishes filling the last water bottle, setting it down in the holders. She reaches down to pick it up by the handles, but Fujita beats her to it, carrying it for her.

“What are you thinking about?”

“It’s just…nah, it’s nothing.” Kotomi raises her eyebrow, watching him skeptically.

“Please don’t hurt yourself, Fujita-kun.”

“Wha-!? What’s that supposed to mean?” Kotomi only answers with a giggle, running ahead into the third string’s gymnasium.

“See you after! Have a good practice!” Fujita blinks a few times, but a smile spreads across his lips, a tender smile, one quite different from the energetic grin he usually has on his face.

~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, what is Fujita smiling about? Also, Akashi, please stop being so creepy. And Midorima needs to chill out. He's so tense. I guess Cancer hasn't been doing so great on the rankings? Tune in next time for more Kuroko Tetsuya and how bad he is at basketball. Also, Kotomi's kind of an asshole, at times. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> 1� A rare occurrence in a shogi game in which the king of both players is within the promotion zone, and it is difficult/impossible to check the other’s king. At this point, the two players can count up the points they’ve captured (disregarding promotions of pieces). If both players have at least 24 points, the game ends in a draw.


	4. First String Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kotomi gets to know her new teammates and their proficiency (or lack thereof) for basketball. Unbeknownst to her, she's part of a much grander plan. But first, conversations about horoscopes, cake, and the subtleties of the Japanese language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or its characters, all the content belongs to Tadatoshi Fujimaki, and published by Shueisha. I do not make any profit on this work, and I only own my characters. Please support the official release.**

The sound sneakers hitting pavement echoes in the ears of a powder blue haired young man, who runs alongside his teammates. He was trying to conserve his energy, but even after just a few minutes, he could feel the beginnings of strain on his body, which had yet to recover from try-outs. He was disappointed to make third string, hoping for at least second so he had the chance of becoming a regular, but…no! He had to become a regular. He had to fulfill his promise with Ogiwara, the one who gave him a sport that he loved. Giving up now would be undermining all the work he and his close friend had worked for all this time. He would do whatever he had to do to become a regular. Surely, he could manage it with hard work and dedication.

“Ten more minutes running! And if any of you stop, we’re adding on two more minutes!” Kuroko tries not to let his stomach churn too quickly, lest he throw up now.

Fujisaki Kotomi was helping a few other managers retrieve the basketballs from the equipment rooms, listening to other girls chat about topics she didn’t really know anything about, or wasn’t interested in, especially since she hadn’t taken the time to catch up about trends in Japan. Or rather, she hadn’t been bothered enough to look just yet; not when she had dance class, or she was practicing with her grandparents, or studying. She didn’t know how to insert herself into the conversation, or if she even wanted to engage with these girls. She just knew she felt incredibly awkward without Fujita to talk to. Her fingers were even itching to text Akashi. Her eyes wander over to the players, particularly the blue haired boy who had surprised her with some cryptic message about herself.

“Kuroko Tetsuya, huh…?” She murmurs to herself, watching him with thoughtful eyes. He didn’t seem nearly as thought-provoking as he did back then. In fact, she was a little concerned for him. He didn’t look so good, and they were running for another eight…ten minutes, now that someone had suddenly tripped on their own feet. It was incredibly bothersome to see just how poor these players were performing.

Yes, there was some potential in one or two of them, but one or two could not carry a team. Why even have a third string, in the first place? Is it meant to be a kind of “participation trophy?” Except, what kind of reward for nearly dying during try-outs is having a coach trying twice as hard to kill you? It just hardly made any kind of sense to her.

In all honesty, she felt pity for these young men. They’d either never get out of third string, or they’d quit when they realize it was all pointless. But…perhaps it was that bleak outlook that made her stay. In all honesty, there was some hope that they would improve with time. She supposed it was a fun little experiment, and with any luck, maybe she could garner enough attention to get moved up to the first-string gym. Kotomi nods once to herself, physically affirming that she had her goal. Now all she had to do was see what she was working with.

“Kuroko, go to the bathroom! Fujisaki-san! Could we get a mop here?” Kotomi inwardly groans but nods once and heads for the supply closet. Challenges were fun, but only when it was possible to win.

~

Once practice was over, Kotomi is slow to clean up, more focused on the stats and notes she had taking during practice. It was a lot rougher than she thought it would be. It wasn’t as if they all out of shape, but in comparison to first string players, things didn’t look good. And that’s not even including Kuroko Tetsuya.

Kotomi utterly stumped on how someone so extraordinarily  _average_ had caught her attention in the first place. He was likely one the of the worse players, even if he had knowledge of what he was supposed to be doing, he couldn’t do it. It was as if his body and his mind were completely out of sync with each other. But why did she get such a strange feeling from him? Her intuitions were rarely ever wrong. Did he just catch her off guard?

“Excuse me,” Perhaps his little quip about being a manager had been some kind of insult, and she was supposed to get mad. Was that why she was so off kilter? Japanese is so confusing. “Excuse me.” But then why did it seem like she was hyperaware of him? There was absolutely, positively nothing— “Excuse me!”

Kotomi lets out a squeak as she turns around, gasping out a feeble “Y-yes!” as she does. The boy himself was standing behind her, just as surprised at her outburst as she was.

“When did you get here?”

“I’ve been standing behind you for a while now. I just wanted to know if you needed help putting those away.” He points to the ball rack Kotomi had been standing by. She hadn’t even realized it, but she never moved from her spot, so deep in thought that she had stopped all other movement.

“Oh, I…yes.” Kuroko nods once and starts walking. Kotomi bites her lip, debating on herself for a moment, hopping and down a little as if she were physically deliberating with herself, before she hops forward and begins to follow him. The other managers and players spot her little dance, giggling to each other as she chases the young man down.

“That was so cute…”

“What was she doing?”

“You’re…Kuroko Tetsuya, is that right?” Said player turns his head as he’s walking, slightly surprised she remembered him.

“That’s right. You’re Fujisaki-san, one of the managers.”

“Yes…”

“Thank for your advice the last time, I’m able to run a little longer, and I don’t throw up as often.” Kotomi smiles a little.

_But you still threw up…_

“I’m glad I could help. Just…ah, well, I was wondering something…” After Kuroko pushes the ball rack back into the supply closet, he turns to her, tilting his head and awaiting her question.

“What is it?”

“Have you…played, basketball before?”

“I have.”

“I see.”

“I know that I’m not very good, yet. But I’m grateful to have made it on the team.” Kotomi nods, that sentiment making sense to her. What was so confusing about him? “But I don’t plan on staying.” Kotomi closes the door and locks the supply closet, looking at him curiously.

“Do you think you can make second string?”

“I want to become a regular.”

“Oh.”

“You sound very surprised.”

“I am.” Kuroko is surprised by her honesty, half expecting him to start discouraging him, though the disapproval never comes. He was quite good at reading people, but Fujisaki Kotomi was a bit of an anomaly to him. He had never really had the chance since they bumped into each other at the club fair to read her properly, but there was something…different about her. It was the same feeling he got looking at those first years who made first string. But what could be intimidating about her? She was small and delicate looking, like she would break if he touched her too carelessly. Perhaps it was her eyes. Piercing and intense, like she could see someone’s weaknesses and vulnerability without so much as batting an eye. “Kuroko-san?”

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“I was just asking if you wanted to walk out together?”

“I actually was planning to stay after.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I already have permission from the advisor.” Kotomi looks down for a minute, humming to herself before looking up at him, curiosity shining in her eyes.

“Well, may I stay and watch?” Kuroko’s eyebrows rise and furrow.

“It’s a little embarrassing for me.”

“I can help you, maybe? I’ve been trying to study basketball. Applying some of the things I’ve learned will help me too.” Kuroko smiles a little. Perhaps she wasn’t nearly as complicated as he thought she was. She was actually quite kind, wasn’t she?

“Then, do you think you can help me set out some cones? I want to practice dribbling. Kotomi hops in place a little, nodding and hurrying off to do just that. Kuroko watches her go, comparing her little hops similar to a rabbit searching for a place to burrow.

_~A Few Hours Later~_

Kotomi clicks the button on the stopwatch, looking up at the near wheezing Kuroko, a little concerned again that he was pushing himself too hard. He looks up at her, eyes tired and sweat falling in droplets from his hair.

_He’s working so hard…_

“F-Fujisaki-san, how…how long did it take…?”

“Nine minutes to complete the mile…since you ran it earlier, this might be a little inaccurate of a measure.” Kuroko stares at the ground in frustration. Kotomi looks away, feeling awkward. What did she say? It wasn’t a good time, especially for a basketball player. He was doing everything he could, as hard as could. So why weren’t his results showing? “We have to lock up the gym, soon…”

“Right.” Kuroko wipes at his sweat with his shirt, still trying to catch his breath. Kotomi puts her notes and the stopwatch down, picking up another towel and tossing it to Kuroko, which he catches.

“You should sit and catch your breath. I’ll start cleaning up.”

“I don’t want to make you clean up by yourself.”

“I’m offering, and I chose to stay. It’s my responsibility just as much as it is yours to put this place back into order. And you still have practice tomorrow.” Kotomi smiles at him. “Please rest. If it really bothers you, then you can buy my juice tomorrow as payment for cleaning up tonight.” Kuroko watches her as she starts picking up the cones off the floor from his dribbling drills.

“Thank you…you’re very kind, Fujisaki-san.” Kotomi looks surprised at this. She hasn’t been called kind in a while. Then again, she hasn’t really done this much for someone in a while, either.

“It’s…no trouble at all, really.” She hurries away before he can say anymore, a light dusting of pink on her cheekbones. Though as she’s cleaning up, the cogs in her head start turning as she starts thinking on ways she can help Kuroko improve. She still didn’t know everything about basketball just yet, so she had more research to do. For some reason, thinking that his hard work would go unnoticed made her stomach churn.

***

Madoka opens the door slowly to the apartment she now shared with her goddaughter, setting her dance shoes and her bag down as quietly as she can manage, not wanting to wake Kotomi. The living room was empty, the dishes were done, and Madoka’s dinner sat under a cover, waiting to be reheated. She chuckles to herself.

_Hard to believe she’s an heiress, sometimes…_ Before she tucks into dinner, she walks over to the room directly across from hers, opening the door slowly and poking her head in, looking for the Kotomi-shaped lump on the bed to confirm that she made it home safe and sound. She’s surprised to see the bed empty, but even more surprised to see Kotomi fast asleep at her desk, desk lamp still on and papers scattered all over the desk. Her laptop was still on, even.

Madoka approaches the sleeping teen. Was she already swamped with homework? Upon closer inspection, Madoka sees statistics on basketball players in the local high schools, breathing exercises to train endurance, step by step basketball drills, and advice from famous basketball coaches from the NBA. There was even more information along the same vein on the many tabs she had open on her laptop. Madoka carefully closes the laptop and reaches down to scoop her goddaughter out of bed.

“Come on, kiddo, let’s get you to bed.” She grunts with exertion as she picks Kotomi up, stumbling a little and trying not to throw the thirteen-year-old onto her bed. “Geez, you’re much heavier than you look. Guess you do work out all the time…” She tucks her into bed, removing her sweatshirt and socks, pulling the sheets up on her gently brushing her hands through Kotomi’s hair, huffing softly.

“This is the only time you’ll let anyone take care of you, huh…” She glances back at the work on her desk, admittedly a bit concerned about her sudden interest in basketball. “Don’t make the same mistakes your idiot brothers made…” Madoka leans down and kisses Kotomi’s forehead, turning off her desk lamp and closing the door behind her as she leaves.

**

Kuroko is one of the first players to arrive, removing his outdoor shoes and heading for the locker rooms as he greets the coaches and managers.

“Good morning.” He spots Kotomi, nodding politely to her, which she returns, before he heads into the gym.

“Excuse me, is Fujisaki-chan here?” Kotomi looks up to the voice calling her name, spotting Momoi Satsuki at the entrance. “Ah, Fujisaki-chan! Long time no see! Could I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course.” Kotomi approaches her with an amicable but slightly confused expression. “What can I help you with?” Momoi holds out a large manila envelope, which seemed to be stuffed to the brim.

“Captain asked me to bring these to you. First string is having its first practice game this weekend and he asked you to look over this data of the other team I’ve compiled, along with the game footage.”

_For a practice game…?_ The captain was the one who suggested she speak with the head coach, but it was still an odd request when he had Momoi to do this. Regardless, Kotomi nods, tucking the envelope under her arm for the time being.

“I’ll take a look at it and send him my notes.”

“Actually, if you could bring it to the first-string gymnasium on Friday!”

“I can do that.”

“Good to hear!” Momoi is so bubbly… “Then I’ll see you Friday!” She waves and hops back out. She almost has a hop in every step she takes. Not confused, uncertain hops, but genuine, bouncy hops that was more like an energetic child than a confused mammal. Kotomi looks down at the files, deciding to put them in her bag until she could take a look at them.

~

“How was practice today?”

“A little easier, so I hope that I’m getting used to it. Thank you for all your help, Fujisaki-san.” Kotomi shakes her head.

“I can give you everything and you could still not follow through with it, so it’s all thanks to you, Kuroko-san. I just want to do my part as manager.” Speaking of which… “Unfortunately, I can’t stay with you after practice tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s just that the captain asked me to look into something.”

“I see, well, I hope you’ll come by again sometime.” Kotomi nods.

“I will. Try to get that mile time up, alright?” The corners of Kuroko’s lips twitch, threatening an amused smile.

“I will.” There’s a knock at the entrance of the gymnasium as Fujita appears, waving at Kotomi with his free hand not holding the bag.

“Fujisaki-chan! We ready to go?” Kotomi laughs, her mood suddenly brightening as she turns to Fujita. It doesn’t register in his expression, but Kuroko is quite shocked to see the way she smiles and grabs her bag, running over to Fujita. Her entire mood changed, though it was almost hardly discernable for someone who wasn’t as observant as him.

“Calm down, you’re bothering people. How do you have this much energy?” There’s a lightness in her voice that Kuroko hadn’t heard prior, and there was no tension or rigidity to her speech. He wonders if they knew each other before school started, because they both seemed close for school having just started.

_She would be much cuter if she was expressive like this all the time…_ Kuroko finds himself thinking as he watches the two of them walk out together. He found her smile quite nice. Not in the sense that it made his heart beat quicker, but rather that it eased that odd feeling he got from her when they first started talking. It would be nice if the two of them became a little closer, too.

~

“Mmm, Number 12 is a second late to respond to the ball change…a leg injury?” Kotomi flips through the young man’s files, finding a school report on the injury during gym class. “How did Momoi-san get ahold of this information? But it proves my hunch. In which case, it’s probably best that we don’t worry about him too much. Kotomi notes down her observation, typing into her laptop. The door to her room opens, flooding the bed with lights and hip-hop music floating in from the living room, where Madoka was busy choreographing. Her godmother is carrying a mug.

“You know, normal teenagers usually get caught watching porn, and you’re watching…?”

“Game footage. The captain asked me to take a look at it and see what I can find about the players.”

“Really? Well, you’ve always been so observant, so it’s a good use of your skill set. Just don’t push yourself too hard, got it?” Kotomi takes the mug as it’s offered to her, sipping on its contents carefully and sighing as she tastes the sweet chocolate flowing down her throat.

“I won’t. It’s fun, actually. I get to flex my brain a little.” Madoka laughs, though her smile falls just a little. Kotomi doesn’t have to wonder why for long.

“By the way…your dad called from England. He just got back from a business meeting and he said he’s been trying to contact you, and you haven’t been answering.” Kotomi takes a nonchalant sip from her hot cocoa, not meeting her godmother’s eyes. “Have you been getting the calls, at least?”

Silence is her only answer. Madoka sighs heavily, running a finger through her own bob cut. “Kotomi, I know you don’t like your dad, but he did sound worried about you. He wished that he had been there, maybe he could have—”

“If he knew Grandmother Cordelia at all, he would know that she wanted me to return to Japan someday. He just didn’t care enough until now.”

“You know that’s not true.”

“I think I know my own father, Madoka.” Despite the intensity of her words, Kotomi’s tone is calm and collected, as if she were talking about the weather. “I can’t receive a call from a number I’ve blocked, so tell him to give up.” Madoka looks stunned, brow furrowing in confusion.

“You  _blocked—”_ Kotomi cuts her godmother off with a yawn, stretching and standing up from her seat.

“I’m tired. I think I’m going to shower and go to bed.” Madoka opens her mouth, as if to say she wasn’t done talking about this, but then closes it. She allows Kotomi to pass her with her towel to the bathroom. What could she say? Kotomi was living under her roof, yes, but even if she loved Kotomi as much as she loved her own son, she sure as hell wasn’t Kotomi’s mother. Even then, Kotomi hardly listening to what her mother told her. She only bent to the will of her Grandmother Cordelia, and occasionally her paternal grandfather. If anyone else wanted to stop her from doing what she wanted, it would be like pushing against a brick wall. Pushing an issue after she was done talking about it would only make her more cautious, and Madoka didn’t want that.

“Damn kids and their hormones…”

~

“Fujisaki-chan! You came to visit me!”

“No,” Kotomi deadpans, tilting her head with an unassuming expression. “I just came to drop something off for the captain. Fujita deflates, and Kotomi feels like she’s kicked a puppy.

“But…I am happy to see you, of course.”

“You’re getting better at not being a jerk.”

“And you’re still good at annoying me.” The two students laugh, despite their traded insults, and Fujita waves to her as he returns to playing with his teammates. Kotomi already notices that he was bulkier, and he seemed to run with ease, even more so than before. A smile graces her lips before she heads past the green mesh nets. She could already see heads of green, red, purple, blue, and pink through the obscurity of the divider, rounding the corner.

“Fujisaki,” Captain Nijimura turns to face her, a default polite smile gracing his lips. “Thanks for doing all this work on such short notice.”

“It wasn’t too hard, it was an honor for you to put your trust in me.” Nijimura blushes slightly, looking away and scratching his cheek.

“O-Oi, you don’t have to speak so formally…”

_Why does everyone say that? This is how I normally talk…_ Kotomi doesn’t voice her confusion, turning to look at the other first-string players.

“Ohh, so this is her, Satsuki?” Kotomi looks over to where the voice is coming from, spotting the tanned young man she remembered seeing at try outs, Momoi’s friend. He had an energetic air that seemed to brighten the space he occupied, similar to the way Fujita did, though on a larger scale. She can’t help but return his giant, contagious grin with one of her own.

“Hello, my name is—”

“Fujisaki Kotoko, right?” Kotomi blinks a few times. Not only did he interrupt her, but he got it wrong…

“Kotomi.”

“Oh. I got it wrong. Sorry…” Aomine grins sheepishly.

“Call her Fuji-chan!” Momoi announces proudly.

“Please, don’t…”

“Eh!? Why not, it’s cute? Then, Saki-chan!” While she preferred no nickname at all, somehow Kotomi knew she wasn’t going to get much better than that.

“Why is she so small?” Kotomi finds herself craning her neck to look up at the larger than life middle schooler who interrupted her introduction with widened eyes. He was even taller up close like this. “It’s creepy. She looks like she should be in a toy store, or something.”

“Ah…” Kotomi wants to puff out her cheeks at such a rude statement, but she manages to refrain, smiling gently. “I’ll get a growth spurt, soon, I hope.” His only response is to shrug and turn away, taking interest in something that wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t sure whether to be glad or insulted. However, her smile returns when she spots a familiar pair of heads, green and red respectively.

“Akashi-san, Midorima-san.” Kotomi offers a small wave, to which Akashi smiles and Midorima only nods, though to everyone but Kotomi and Midorima himself, it was quite obvious the green haired teen was pleased to see her, what with the way he fidgeted with his Lucky Item, a Cheetah print glasses case.

“Fujisaki-san, it’s very good to see you again. Thank you again for bringing the information. It’s a great help.”

“Of course. I enjoyed compiling it.”

“I was hoping to play another game of shogi, very soon. What do you say?”

“That sounds perfect. Let’s make plans again, soon.”

“Satsuki, why do they both talk like that?” Aomine whispers to his childhood friend. Momoi whispers back softly.

“They’re both from prestigious families, I believe.”

“She’d be cuter if she wasn’t as stuffy.” Aomine wrinkles his nose. “She makes my nose itch. I get a weird feeling from her.” Momoi raises an eyebrow.

“Weird…?”

“Okay! Enough chatting! Let’s get to practice!”

“I should head back to the third-string, gym.”

“Actually, if you wouldn’t mind helping out here today, Fujisaki-san.” Kotomi raises an eyebrow looking at Akashi, surprised he was deciding something like that. “There are plenty of managers already, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you helped out here, today.”

“I don’t think they would, but is that really okay?”

“Of course, it is.” Akashi smiles, unassuming, and Kotomi wonders if she’s just imagining that glint in his eye, like a lion who’s spotted its prey lounging by the watering hole. “But if you’re more comfortable in the third-string gym, that’s quite alright, too.” This was a good chance to get some ideas on what the third string should be working towards, after all. She might be able to lean something useful.

“I don’t mind either way, but if Akashi-san has asked me, then I have to stay here.” Akashi’s smile widens, but in a more amicable fashion, looking more like a middle schooler now.

“Perfect.” Momoi loops her arm around Kotomi’s and hugs it, much to Kotomi’s surprise and apprehension. She didn’t quite like being touched by strangers, but Momoi seemed like the touchy type, and for the most part harmless, so she lets it go, for now.

“Come this way, Saki-chan!” She still didn’t like that nickname…

~

By the time practice is over, Kotomi is almost sweating from how quickly she had to write. Her previous assumptions about the third-string’s abilities were crushed. The first-string, in its first two weeks, was leagues above its less than exemplary counterparts. In fact, even second-string was miles away. Even the upperclassmen seem just as shocked, from what she’s been hearing from the conversations occurring around her. The first-string was obviously better, in general, but this? This was unheard of, and Kotomi knew just what was so outlandish.

“That was quite spectacular, Murasakibara-san.” Kotomi knew the compliment would go unappreciated as the purple teen yawns again, seeming quite bored and having hardly broken a sweat. Everything seemed to come to him with ease, thanks to his height, long limbs, and natural strength.

“Don’t talk to me if you’re going to use such annoying words, Fujisaki-san.” Midorima, still in the middle of cleaning up, seems annoyed, fixing his glasses before moving along. Kotomi blinks several times, but before she can formulate a response, Aomine butts in.

“Yeah! You sound so stuck up! How do you make friends like that?”

“I…don’t really make friends. People come to me.” Now that Kotomi thought about it, that necessarily wasn’t a good thing. Actually, that was awful. And embarrassing.

“That’s because you talk like you’re some kind of samurai or somethin’!”

“Samurai…?”

“Mou, Dai-chan! That’s so rude!” Momoi puffs her cheeks out cutely, tapping her friend on the shoulder with her clipboard.

“Could…you teach me…?” Kotomi can’t stop her hands from fidgeting, staring down at the ground. There was a light dusting on her cheeks. She almost never asked for help from others, especially people she didn’t know. But she would never get to know anyone unless she learned to speak more colloquially. Her grandmother told her never to, in her words, “dumb herself down,” but that just seemed counterproductive to becoming a functioning member of society. “How to speak…more like my peers?”

Aomine’s cheeks turn red, and he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, grinning so brightly Kotomi wondered briefly if the room had indeed gotten lighter, even though it was already dark outside.

“’Course I can!” Aomine is interrupted when Momoi steps in front of Aomine, getting in the other girl’s face, hands suddenly clasping both of hers.

“You should talk about the things you like, Saki-chan! Like…what’s your favorite food?”

“Oh, I like…sweets…? Like…cakes…and crepes…” This attracts the attention of a certain purple giant, how looms over her with a sparkle in his eyes, like some kind of hungry Titan.

“You should learn about the different kinds of pastries.” Murasakibara asserts. “It’ll be a pain, but if you buy my snacks for me, I’ll consider that as your payment.”

“How is that important?” Aomine huffs, not liking that he was pushed to the side so quickly.

“Everyone likes to talk about snacks.”

“Well, you’re not wrong, I guess.” Momoi giggles, still holding Kotomi’s hand.

“If you’re going to learn pointless things, then at least learn about your horoscope.” Kotomi wasn’t expecting Midorima to get involved with the conversation now, but he steps up regardless, pulling out a cleaning cloth from his Lucky Item and wiping his glasses clean.

“When’s your birthday?”

“…October 7th…I’m a Libra.” Midorima fixes his glasses, seeming a little confused by something in her admission.

“I see…”

“She’s tryin’ to make friends, not be even weirder than she already is.”

“Wha-!?”

“Dai-chan!”

“Anyway, Fuji-chin, about snacks…”

“F-Fuji-chin…?” Was it her imagination, or were they circling around her? And first she was Saki-chan, and now she’s Fuji-chin? Nicknames weren’t typically used to familiarly, were they? Maybe she needed to ask Madoka about the mannerisms, now. She thought she could learn through ear, but…

“Anyway, Fujisaki!” And now Aomine wasn’t using honorifics at all!? They just met! His pace was just too irregular for her! “I’ll teach you a cool phrase that’s super popular here!” He leans in and whispers something into her ear, and Momoi’s concern skyrockets when Kotomi’s brows furrow and her lips part in a question already forming before he finishes, and her fears are realized when Kotomi’s voice seems to echo a little louder than she means for it to.

“What’s bareback?”1 It seems that the worse the situation, the quieter it happens to get just in time for everyone to hear it. Some middle schoolers still didn’t understand what exactly she was saying, but those who did stop what they’re doing, gaping at the apparent audacity of a cute manager who doesn’t have nearly as solid a grasp on Japanese as she thinks she does speaking such language in public, and on school grounds, no less. Momoi covers her mouth, cheeks pink.

“Oh…” Midorima finally speaks up, but his threats don’t really have their desired effect with his entire face so red.

“A-Aomine! You c-can’t just-!” Aomine looks just as confused as everyone else.

“The upperclassmen taught me! What’s wrong?”

“Mine-chin is a pervert…”

“What did you just call me!?”

“Anyways, Fuji-chin, there’s this bakery in Shinjuku…”

“Oi! Don’t ignore me!”

“I could say the same, Aomine! Using such vulgar words like that in front of  _anyone,_ especially young women!”

“We still have to clean up.” Kotomi goes unheard in the commotion, and her soft, almost undetectable giggle is missed by everyone in the room.

~

“You’re right, she does have a good chemistry, even with an odd combination like that.” Nijimura notes as he watches the four of them bicker amongst each other, Akashi appraising the sight with an amused smile of his own.

“I think she’d be more useful in the first-string. She can still do her duties in the third string, but her observational skills might pair well with Momoi and her data gathering.”

“I’d like to see more concrete results in the game, first, but I’ll talk to coach about it when we’re sure.” Nijimura admits, sighing before he finally decides that he should intervene, calling out.

“Oi! You lot! Either clean or get out!”

“Ehh, we can leave?”

“Murasakibara! You can run 4 more laps tomorrow for that!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1� Aomine whispered “なまがいい” which roughly translates to “bareback is okay,” which is essentially a phrase referring to unprotected sex.


	5. Ridiculous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple months have passed since Kotomi has begun her life in Japan, and as a student at Teiko. It seems like nothing can slow her down. She becomes more acquainted with not only the first-year players, but the strange phantom boy she met in the gymnasium. The ocean was clear for Kotomi now, murky waters and bumpy seas are lying just ahead. 
> 
> Who would have thought that being a teenager would leave someone like her so frazzled!
> 
> **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or its characters, all the content belongs to Tadatoshi Fujimaki, and published by Shueisha. I do not make any profit on this work, and I only own my characters. Please support the official release.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Notes** Hoo boy! I had a lot of fun writing this one. We get introduced to some more insight on Kotomi's family, as well as the her relationship with the first members of the GoM.

“ _There she is.”_

_“She’s so beautiful.” A tiny girl with short hair dark as night and wide blue eyes looks up at the woman holding her hand at the woman with mocha-colored hair and eyes the color of cornflowers, exactly like hers, but weighed down by some unspoken heft of a truth she could not bear to give voice. Yes, her mother was beautiful, but why did they sound so sad?_

_“How could he do such a thing? Ayato is just out of high school and the twins are barely in elementary school.” The woman’s pretty face is marred by a scowl as she pulls roughly on her daughter’s hand._

A day at the park gone wrong. It was the first time in months she had been able to spend time with her mother.

“ _It’s not like they got married because they wanted to. It was arranged. No wonder this happened.”_

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

_“It’s hardly Eliza’s fault. She’s a sickly woman and she works hard.”_

_“She should leave that man. For the sake of her children.”_

The whispers, the glances. It didn’t take a genius to notice.

_Especially with how her mother glared at the ground, only pulling her child’s arm a little harder, ignoring the pleading questions that came along with it._

_“Mama? I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Tiny hands tug at her mother’s pant leg, but the leg only pulls away from her, retreating away from the tiny fingers as her mother heads up the stairs of the foyer. Her mother couldn’t see her face, but her voice was small and weepy, obviously on the verge of crying. “I won’t ask to go to the park anymore, please don’t be mad.”_

_“Just go play with your toys.” And with that, she was gone, and in the freezing cold of isolation despite the summer sun just outside, the little girl found herself alone._

~

Kotomi jolts awake, her eyes wide as she slowly sits up, panting softly and trying to calm her aching chest. The last couple months seemed like such a blur to her. Between alternating between helping at Madoka’s studio and visiting her grandparents, watching game footage and providing her insights for the basketball team, and spending what little time she had left juggling her studies, spending time with Fujita, and occasionally helping Kuroko after basketball practice with his drills. Out of all her obligations and duties, it seemed as if Kuroko and his basketball style was an anomaly, even to her. He just wasn’t getting any better, and the other first years were only improving. According to his growth, Fujita would be moving up to first string, soon. Even sooner, Haizaki Shougo, another first-year, moved up to the first-string after the promotion tests. The gap between Kuroko and the others was only growing, and Kotomi found herself worried for him. She didn’t have the heart to tell him to quit, but she wasn’t so cold that she could bear watching him work so hard with so few results.

Kotomi runs her fingers through her hair in early morning frustration, which had grown to her shoulders.

_Add haircut to the list of things I need to do…I suppose I miss a bustling schedule more than I initially perceived...hopefully things will slow down this summer._ Kotomi slips out of bed to begin her day, pulling out her notes and rifling through them one more time. Akashi and the other first-string members were going to play in national qualifiers, this week. Unfortunately, she was helping Madoka with a dance class benefit event for inner-cities with the original studio in the U.S., so she wouldn’t be able to attend, but she had worked very closely with Momoi these last few months to compile the perfect profile on their opponents. No complaints.  _Hopefully the Captain and Akashi-kun think the same…_ Closing the documents within a plain manila folder, Kotomi packs her bags for the day.

~~~~~

“Morning, kiddo!” Madoka greets her as she’s shoving buttered toast into her mouth, stuffing a change of clothes and her I-pod into her dance bag. “You’re getting up later and later, you’re gonna end up sleeping in one day! It’s all the work you’re doing!”

“Or maybe it’s a poor home influence?” Kotomi dodges the bread crust sent her way, laughing lightly and reaching into the refrigerator. “I was kidding.”

“Sleeping in late, being a smart-ass, actually staying out after dark with friends, could it be Fujisaki Kotomi is becoming an actual teenager?” Madoka gasps in mock bewilderment, though her eyes are smiling.

“Very funny,” Madoka eyes the two Tupperware containers Kotomi pulls out of the fridge. She hands one to Madoka. “Here. You’re not going to last long on just bread and eating instant ramen will just slow you down.” Madoka curiously opens the container, tilting her head and raising a brow at the odd little mocha colored balls with dark brown lumps inside. She sniffs the supposed food, able to detect peanut butter, but not much else. There were at least two dozen of them. The other container was much larger, Madoka couldn’t help but notice, as her goddaughter puts it inside a plastic bag.

“What are these?”

“Protein balls. It’s rolled oats, peanut butter, dark chocolate chips and honey. They’re sweet and nutritious, so athletes can get their energy back.” Kotomi explains, glancing up and raising a brow at the large, Cheshire-like grin her godmother was giving her. “What’s wrong…?”

“Baking for your basketball boys? You really are like a teen girl, now. Do you have a crush on any of them?

“It’s to replenish energy, and it isn’t as if it took a lot of time.” Kotomi glances away, puffing her cheeks out a little. She didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Her grandfather Callum had the maids make her protein muffins before a fencing tournament, she was just following tradition. Nationals were a big deal, according to Momoi. It was good for the school. She just made them now to get opinions on the taste.

“If you say so! Ah, to be young!”

“Now now, Madoka, you still have another 3 years before you’re old enough to say such things.”

“If I wasn’t running late, you would pay dearly for that.” Madoka’s voice holds dark promise as she hurries out the door, waving. Kotomi giggles, continuing to pack her bag when her phone flashes with an incoming call. She glances at the screen, deciding to ignore it when she doesn’t recognize the number, continuing on with her day. More than likely a wrong number.

_ **~Nagoya, Japan~** _

“I’m sorry, this number has not yet set up a voice mail box…” A heavy sigh escapes the lips of a handsome man with straight hair the color of a raven’s feathers and eyes the color of chestnuts. He bites his bottom lip as he glances down at the sleeping form beside him, shame and guilt bubbling up in his chest once again. So close, yet so far away.

“Takahiro…?” Said man looks down at his lover, offering a weak smile as she pushes some of his hair behind his ear with an affectionate gesture that sent his heart a flutter and his chest ache all the same.

“May I ask you something, Neiomi?”

“Of course, anything!” The beautiful woman flips onto her stomach, the coffee colored bangs of her rounded bob cut obscuring one turquoise colored iris.

“If you were, well, estranged…from your father,” the man rubs the back of his head gingerly, trying to find a less awkward way of asking the question. Finding none, he continues. “would you let him talk if he showed up at your front door?” Neiomi raises a perfectly shaped brow, appraising him with some incredulous disdain for the topic he was trying to raise.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring me? I thought your daughter blocked your phone number.”

“I…bought a new phone.”

“If were a little girl whose daddy is sleeping with other women instead of providing for her sickly mother while I was shipped off to Tokyo, I think I’d throw you out before you even stepped foot on my property.” Takahiro flinches, looking down.

“I deserve that…”

“You said yourself that you weren’t particularly interested in what goes on with her.”

“I said I don’t care what the plans her  _grandmother_ has for her.” Takahiro snaps lightly, glancing down his phone again. It was a never-ending cycle with him. It was pathetic. He doesn’t push Neiomi away when he feels her arms wrap around him from behind, her hands caressing his face the same way Eliza would. She knew that it messed with his head. “I want things to be right. She loves her grandfather Callum. She needs to be with him, someone engaged.”

“If you want to fix things, love,” he flinches when she kisses his ear, hands caressing his unbuttoned dress shirt from the workday before. “You need to start with this problem right here.”

_ **~Teiko Junior High, Lunchtime~** _

  
  


  
  


  
  


“Thank you again for doing so much work for the national qualifiers, Fujisaki-san.” Akashi’s praises are common place to her, but Kotomi nods regardless, smiling politely as always. She had always been innately good at observation as a child, a talent honed by her childhood experiences. They were at one of their regular shogi games, with Midorima awaiting his turn and listening to their conversation.

“I’m glad I was able to help.” Kotomi movies her king forward, a bold move indeed, but they’ve played enough games together for Akashi to know she didn’t play as carelessly as she led others to believe. Her strategy was quite interesting, and it translated into the way she planned out their game strategies. She took a bold step forward, letting him take a majority of her pieces, but then she would flip it around, using his own pieces to block the small team she had left as they swiftly promoted and decimated his team until they were about equal. It was the similar play style she suggested for the basketball team. Move in strong and steadfast, make the opponent think that the team is just reckless. Little did they know every move they make has been accounted for and countered before they can even conceive. It was a brilliant strategy. Tying in shogi was a rare occurrence, but Kotomi made it seem as if she wasn’t even trying. “But I hope the information is still applicable? Their last game available on footage was 3 months ago.”

“People don’t change that quickly. While I expect a few irregularities, Momoi’s data and your information will still make our win inevitable.” Akashi reassures her, claiming one of her pieces for his own.

“I see,” She wasn’t surprised by her own accomplishment, but there was the echo of relief from some unseen doubt. “That’s good, then. Ah, another draw…”

“Shall we take a quick break, then?” Akashi offers, turning to Midorima. “I think I’d like to get a drink.”

“I don’t mind.” Midorima nods in agreement with Kotomi, glancing at his Rodaemon1 plush on the desk beside him as Akashi stands up, heading out of the room. Forest green irises travel back to his raven-haired classmate, who was checking her phone and giggling at something she reads. His eyes remain there until cornflower blue meets forest green, blinking in surprise. Midorima immediately looks away, huffing in false indignation.

“Is something wrong?”

“Why keep with the same strategy when you only reach a draw or lose?” Kotomi tilts her head, smiling a little and tilting her head thoughtfully.

“Akashi is such a formidable opponent, I can’t quite read what strategy is best. I suppose I’m hoping that I’ll find some new technique if I memorize both his moves and my own if I take the same course and diverge from the path every now and then. You always seem so close to beating him, Midorima-san.”

_I’ve never reached a draw with him, or you, for that matter._ Midorima doesn’t voice either of those admissions out loud, but he stands up and sits in front of Kotomi and the shogi board, resetting the board.

“I may not be Akashi, but you may try some of your ideas on me. I hope you’re not applying the same logic when you provide information for our games.”

“Well, not everyone thinks like Akashi-san. I can play around here all I want, but I don’t want to risk a new strategy when the stakes are high for you guys.” A fair assumption. It was a relief to know that she viewed winning just as important as the others. Victory was in Teiko’s very foundation, after all. He didn’t know much about the Fujisaki family’s children, but so far, she seemed as one would expect the child of a longtime dignified family to be.

“I suppose you’re right. Besides, as long as I bring my Lucky Item and do my utmost, there’s no way we can lose.” He’s surprised when Kotomi smiles, a gentle turn of her lips, obscured partly by dainty, well-manicured fingers. Midorima looks a bit perturbed.

“Why do you laugh?”

“You’re funny, Midorima-san.”

“I don’t think I said anything deserving of laughter.”

“No, you didn’t. You’re straightforward and determined.”

“I still don’t see why that’s funny.”

“Maybe ‘funny’ isn’t the right word. Perhaps…intriguing? Admirable? Either way, it’s precisely why I like you.”2 His cheeks light up uncontrollably at her sudden declaration, and he sputters, standing up so suddenly Kotomi jumps at the sound of the chair squeaking across tile floors. Kotomi looks up at him, shocked. “What? What did I say?”

“Y-You-! You just said…you can’t say things like that so casually! We barely know each other!” To say Kotomi was just as surprised as he was is an understatement.

“But I do like you!” Midorima takes a step back, looking for some kind of escape from this situation. He’s never been confessed to, before, especially by a girl like her. She was undoubtedly a more than suitable choice for a wife in terms of bloodline, education, and reputation; he had thought so ever since their eyes met during the first week of classes, but he barely knew a single thing about her. How did he proceed? He couldn’t lead her on, surely! Wait…Oha-Asa warned him about this:

“ _ **Cancers rank third, today! Today’s Lucky Item is a Rodaemon piggy bank! Be alert! A misunderstanding might catch you off guard but be sure to clear the air as soon as possible!”**_

Midorima visibly relaxes and sits down with a huff without so much as an explanation. Kotomi stares at him for a long time, then snickers, covering her mouth as she fights the laughter spilling from her chest.

“W-what’s so funny now!” His whole face was red now, brow furrowed in frustration as he tries to calm his racing heart.

“You’re just, so…,” Kotomi takes a deep breath, still covering her mouth. “You’re exactly like a Cancer.” This causes Midorima’s ears to perk, and he looks at her with a bewildered expression.

“You’re making no sense.”

“You’re reserved and polite, and the Midorima family is known for being quite traditional. But you’re endlessly passionate towards the things you care about. Oha-Asa and basketball, for example.” He opens his mouth to deny her words but finds that to do so would be an outright lie. She read him perfectly.

“I thought you knew nothing of horoscopes?” She glances away at the innocent accusation, seeming a little shy. She reaches for her bag and pulls out a pair of pink binoculars for children. Midorima vaguely recognizes it as the Lucky Item for Libras, today.

“I just happened upon it while I was researching Libras. These belonged to a crush my godbrother Ichiro had when he was young; she had forgotten it after coming to play. I found them under his bed.” Midorima listens to her explanation with some skepticism about its relevance to the conversation.

“What does that have to do with your horoscope?”

“I’m not sure if I believe in such a thing as fate or horoscopes, but…” Kotomi holds up the binoculars to her eyes, looking at Midorima through them. “I think finding a Lucky Item like this is almost like a scavenger hunt! And it brings me good memories. I really liked that girl who used to come and play. Her name was Tanaka Saeko.3 She was strong and passionate and kind and cute. I had almost forgotten about her. And now I remember.” She pulls away to smile at Midorima again. As small as it was, Midorima feels some kind of reaction to it. He didn’t think she would actually heed his advice, since Aomine teased the bespectacled basketball player so relentlessly. Not to mention, to take such a strange take on something like Oha-Asa…

“That doesn’t explain what made you start looking at it.” Kotomi shrugs at this, putting her Lucky Item away for now.

“I’m the one who asked for advice, and I didn’t see the harm in trying.” Midorima nods absentmindedly, still stunned by that entire exchange. He found himself utterly stumped by his natural gravitation towards her, gears turning to try and reason out why he always found her in his sight.

_Libras are like that, this should come as no surprise. It’s their natural charm. It’s perfectly natural to be moved by someone like Fujisaki. But that’s all it is._ Midorima stands up, suddenly, completely composed.

“Work on your Japanese before worrying about things concerning me, or nothing will come from finding your Lucky Item. God does not help those who do not do what’s necessary of them.” With that, he exits the room, taking his piggy bank with him. Akashi on his way back when he passes Midorima.

“Midorima? The game—”

“I’ll be back.”

Akashi heads back to the classroom, seeing Kotomi staring at the shogi board with furrowed brows. “What happened?”

“I’m not really sure. Midorima-san seemed to panic when I told him that I liked him.” Akashi’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

“And…do you?”

“What?”

“Like him in that way. Midorima.”

“Of course. He’s a bit abrasive, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I like everyone on the basketball team.”

_Oh. I see what happened._ Akashi can’t help an amused smile, claiming his seat across from her once more.

“Fujisaki, the context for the phrase you used has a very different meaning than you intended. That might be why Midorima acted the way he did.”

“Another context…?” Kotomi puts her hand to her chin, thinking long and hard about her words. Considering that she rarely used Japanese while in the UK, her understanding for cultural context had taken a larger blow than she originally thought. Akashi watches her a moment, then sighs.

“You told him you were romantically interested in him.” Kotomi looks at Akashi again, and he was quite amused by the way her entire face turns a lovely shade of pink before she covers it with both her hands, letting out only a soft “oh” in response.

“I thought it sounded a little weird in my head, but I didn’t think…” She curses herself.

“I’m sure it came as quite a shock to him, considering you’ve only known each other almost two months.”

“How embarrassing…”

“It’s just a misunderstanding, I’m sure he’ll understand. Don’t worry too much about it. Shall we continue?” Kotomi takes a deep breath to compose herself, nodding as she meets his crimson gaze once again. For all her skill at observation, she couldn’t quite understand why there was such a relief in his eyes.

“Yes!”

_ **~In the hallways, at the same time…~** _

Midorima hastily buys a drink from the vending machine to compose himself, chugging the bottled tea for a few seconds before he pulls the bottle away from his lips, which purse a bit in rebellion of his thoughts. His grip on the bottle tightens when the blush he was fighting in the presence of both Fujisaki and Akashi rears its ugly pink hue on his porcelain skin. Her words, her small mannerisms, and her  _smile…_ such a small, weak gesture, as if she wasn’t too sure about how her muscles in her face worked. And yet he could only describe it the way his mind betrayed him the day he first saw her in class.

It frustrated him to no end. He only ever caught glimpses of her at practice or glanced at her in class or listened to her voice as she spoke to him and Akashi during their lunch hour. That was his first face-to-face conversation with her after months of almost-was interactions. And yet her smile. His traitorous mind resurfaced that irrational thought he had when he first saw her in the classroom, sitting with some kind of uncertainty of her status. He willed it away that time, for he knew it was just his reaction to his hormones as a teen boy. But this time, he couldn’t shake it. It coiled around his thoughts and rooted itself in his lips to stay.

_Pretty…_

_ **~ Basketball Practice, First-String Gym~** _

Kotomi’s fingers twitch nervously as the manila folder finally leaves her hands. She glances at the divider splitting up the first and second-string players, wishing that Fujita was here for support. He has been out sick for these last few days, and despite her concern, he told her not to come.

“You’re already so busy, you can’t add visiting me onto that long list of yours. Take a break!” He said to her when she suggested she stop by. She hoped to at least bring him some of the treats. Nijimura looks surprised when he feels the weight of it, looking down and rifling through the several pages for a moment.

“This is so much, are you sure this was alright for you to handle, Fujisaki?” Kotomi nods, folding her hands daintily in front of her.

“Yes, it’s more work than it looks. Momoi-san helped me quite a bit, too.” Said pink haired female perks at the sound of her name from afar, turning away from Micchan and Acchan, two managers she’s made close friends with, and throws her arms around the raven-haired manager.

“Mou, I already told you, Ko-chan, call me Satsuki!” She cries, rocking the other girl back at forth as she wobbles and tries not to fall over. Over the last few months, the two have spent quite some time after school together, gathering data and recording Kotomi’s observations. Momoi had a real talent, despite claiming she’s never done something like this before. She was cheerful, kind and excitable, and Kotomi’s realized that perhaps she’s drawn to those kinds of people, because she tends to get carried away with them, as is the case with Fujita, as well. It helped that Momoi seemed to take to someone quiet like Kotomi.

“And I told you, I don’t like Ko-chan…” Kotomi pouts slightly.

“Sa-chin, obviously Koto-chin sounds better,” Murasakibara drawls as he approaches them, ball still in hand.

“Just Fujisaki is fine…”

“Eh??? You don’t like nicknames?” Momoi puffs her cheeks out adorably, silky, peachy pink hair bouncing in protest to Kotomi’s rejection.

“Well, I don’t mind…”

“How about Koto?” Aomine pops in now, having seen the commotion and getting interested. He’s changed her name at least 3 different times now.

“Dai-chan, you have to add honorifics! You can’t talk to a girl like that!”

“Murasakibara calls her ‘-chin!’”

“Eh? Fujisaki-san is way too long…”

“Oi.” All four teens freeze up at the change in tone of their captain’s voice. He seems to loom over them to a comical point, even Murasakibara. Kotomi is reminded of those old Japanese yakuza movies Madoka used to watch, with their protruding lip and frightening demeanor. She doesn’t shrink away nearly as much as everyone else. She wasn’t intimidated by such shows of force as easily as others, but she does take a step back. “When did I say you two could stop practicing…?” Murasakibara glances at the plastic bag Kotomi was carrying, licking his lips.

“I thought I smelled snacks...Koto-chin, did you bring food?”

“Oh! That reminds me…” Kotomi places her bag on a bench and pulls out the container, opening it to show the small crowd its contents. “I wanted to help a little more, since I won’t be able to join you all for the qualifiers, so I was wondering if you would try these out and tell me if you like them?” Murasakibara snatches one and sniffs it, murmuring to himself.

“Peanut butter, honey, chocolate…”

“Uwah, he’s like a bloodhound…” Aomine picks one of the balls up as well, popping it into his mouth while Nijimura glances at Kotomi with raised brows.

“Fujisaki, you didn’t have to do that.”

“It didn’t take long! And it’s healthy, I promise. If you don’t want me to make them again, that’s alright. I just wanted everyone’s opinion, first.” The captain is taken aback, but then he smiles, reaching down to pat her on the head affectionately, ruffling half-up half-down do she had put her hair into.

“Well, if I said no, then your hard work would go to waste.”

“They really weren’t hard work, I—”

“Hey, these are pretty good!” Aomine goes to snatch another one, but Kotomi holds the container away.

“These are for everyone! Akashi-san, Midorima-san!” The two middle school players look over when called, having not noticed Kotomi entering the gym. “Try these-oh!” The weight occupying her hands is suddenly gone when she looks up, shocked to see that Murasakibara had snatched the container from her hands, picking up another ball and eating it. “Murasakibara-san!”

“Oi, you hog, don’t eat them all!” Aomine runs after him, followed by Momoi.

“Mukkun, no!”

“Koto-chin made them for the team…”

“Yeah, you’re one person!”

“Mine-chin can’t count, anyway…”

“Hey, you guys cut that out!” Nijimura moves in to break up the fight that was spilling out. Kotomi hears Akashi chuckle as he approaches her from behind, Midorima close behind.

“It’s so lively over here.”

“It’s a waste of time.” Midorima crosses his arms indignantly, refusing to look at their manager. Kotomi turns to Midorima, becoming embarrassed when she remembers what occurred earlier in the day.

“Midorima-san, I’m so sorry about earlier. I suppose you’re right. I need to study up on my Japanese…” Midorima pushes up his glasses, fiddling with his plush toy a little more before he sighs.

“I suppose it was rude of me to up and leave when I promised you a game.” Kotomi covers her mouth to hide a giggle.

“Is that your way of apologizing to me?” Midorima huffs, shaking his head.

“Don’t get the wrong idea. Now, what did you call us over here for?”

“Oh! The protein balls! Murasakibara-san!” Kotomi turns to run after the group that had just left. The purple giant was holding the container over his head, still popping them into his mouth and whining childishly, his free giant hand planted firmly against the force that was Aomine.

“Murasakibara…” Nijimura’s voice held a note of warning. “It doesn’t matter how good at basketball you are, if you don’t stop right now…”

“Murasakibara-san! Those snacks are for everyone, please return it.” He pouts childishly, shaking his head.

“I’m hungry.”

“Mukkun, if you give them back, I’ll make you some snacks too!” Momoi adds, missing the way Aomine tenses up and turns a little green.

“Satsuki…we need him to play.”

“Eh!? What does that mean?”

“Murasakibara-san, if you give it back now, I’ll treat you to ice cream after practice!” Murasakibara finally looks down at Kotomi, interest gleaming in his eyes, though he still seems unsure, so Kotomi decides to add: “I’ll treat you to a crepe, as well. At any café you want.” Kotomi is quite pleased when his eyes light up more than she’s never seen them before as he finally hands the container back to her.

“I’ll hold you to that, Koto-chin~”

“Give me your number after practice, alright? We can plan for it.” Momoi gasps, throwing her arms around Kotomi again.

“I want to get ice cream too with you too, Ko-chan!”

“Oh, that sounds like fun! I’ll join!” Aomine announces. “Hey, Fujisaki! Give me your number, too!” Kotomi wants to correct him on how he refers to her again, but something tells her that it would be like punching a brick wall.

“After practice, then! For now, I’d like everyone going to qualifiers to try this…” The other first-stringers gather around her, excited to try a snack before practice got really hard. They all seem to like it, even Midorima, who merely eats his share and heads back to the court, but Kotomi notices that he seems to move with a little more energy. Or maybe it was her imagination.

“Sorry to disrupt practice, captain. That wasn’t my intention.” Nijimura shrugs.

“I’ll just make them run a few miles after.”

“Ah…I see…”

_So sorry, guys…_

_ **~After Practice~** _

As bad as Kotomi feels for the players having to endure the captain’s wrath, conjured by her unintentional disruption, she slips out to head to the third-string gym. She knew it would be cleared out by now, with only her phantom-like friend staying behind. Her hunch seems to be correct when she sees the lights still on in the gym, despite regular practice being over.

“Hello?” Kotomi slips inside, spotting Kuroko standing in the middle of the gym, unmoving. She looks a bit concerned as she approaches him, as he hasn’t yet turned to face her. Did he not notice? “Kuroko-san?” He jumps a little but turns to face her with eyes wide in surprise.

“Fujisaki-san? When did you get here?”

“I’ve been here.” Kotomi tries to stifle a giggle, realizing the roles have reversed for once, but she’s still concerned about him. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Somehow, she doesn’t believe that, but she knows better than anyone that pushing a subject when they didn’t want to talk about it did more harm than good.

“I’m glad. I’m sorry I can’t stay behind again, but I wanted to bring you these.” She pulls out a small plastic baggie with three little protein balls inside. She places them in Kuroko’s free hand. “I made them for the others for qualifiers, and there were a few left over.” Kuroko looks quite surprised, a ghost of a smile turning the corners of his mouth up.

“They look tasty, I look forward to eating them.” Kotomi pokes him in the side, though he doesn’t react much, aside from a raised brow.

“You should really bulk up. Especially if you want to make first-string.”  _Sorry, Kuroko…_ she didn’t want to pry, but…she did attempt a small dig to see if the core of his problem rested within his abilities. She suspects she’s right, with the way he seems to deflate a little. Spend enough time with a tree in the forest, and you’ll learn how its leaves sway in the wind. As mild-mannered as he is, Kotomi was learning what made him tick. “I look forward to seeing how you improve.” She hears commotion coming from the other gym not too far from them, taking this as her signal to meet with the others. “I’ve got to go. I’ll help you out next week?” She picks up her bag and heads for the door. She almost doesn’t hear what he mutters in response.

“What if I don’t…?” Kotomi regrets later in the night how she pretends she doesn’t hear him, but she was sure it was for the better. He wouldn’t have liked her answer; not to mention, by the expression on his face as the gym’s door closed on her retreating glance over her shoulder, he already knew.

_ **~Outside a nearby convenience store~** _

“Midorin! You joined us!” Momoi still hangs off Kotomi as she cooes happily at the sight of the bespectacled basketball player.

“What, no Akashi?” Aomine bites into his popsicle, licking his lips.

“He wanted to stay behind and talk to the captain. And I am not joining you, I just happened to want ice cream, I had no intention of joining you.”

“But you’re standing here and talking to us…” Aomine rolls his eyes. Ignoring him, Midorima points his plush toy at Murasakibara, suddenly changing his target.

“Murasakibara, you can’t eat a whole box of popsicles. You haven’t had dinner, yet.”

“I can’t waste these when Koto-chin bought them for me~ Besides, it doesn’t affect my appetite at all~”

“You made her buy you a whole box!?”

“It’s fine, really…” Kotomi laughs a little. It wasn’t as if she spent her allowance on much, aside from a new book or a pair of earrings here and there. A box of popsicles wasn’t really anything to be worried about.

“See, Mido-chin? Koto-chin is okay with it.”

“It’s fine,” Aomine announces, waving his popsicle stick in the air. “She’s loaded, isn’t she? Ain’t you some kind of richy rich girl, Kotomi?”

“Well, I suppose…?”

“That’s besides the point. Don’t you have any shame in letting a young girl buy ice cream for you?”

“It ain’t got anything to do with her being a girl!”

“W-Well, at the very least, thank her!”

“Why’re you being so pushy…” Kotomi feels like she should intervene, as the two of them were arguing on her behalf, but she’s distracted by the long pair of arms that envelope both her and Momoi, since she was attached to her.

“Thanks, Koto-chin~” Kotomi feels her cheeks warm, though it doesn’t pigment her face.

“I still owe you a crepe, Murasakibara-san.” He seems to almost purr, and the image of a giant purple house cat appears in her head.

“I love you, Koto-chin~” Momoi gasps, her entire face warming her face. Aomine whistles in slight amusement, more interested in his popsicle, while Midorima looks absolutely mortified.

“You’re all incorrigible…” Kotomi sighs and pats the long forearm resting across her chest, looking up into the indigo hues above her.

“Murasakibara-san, I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry.” He pulls away, starting on his beloved box of icy cold treats instead. Kotomi finally opens her melon flavored ice pop, finding herself staring at the other teens around her. She smiles to herself, feeling none of that awkwardness she felt when surrounded by her usual crowd. Typically, the children of business partners or young heirs and heiresses who either despised her for her family’s success or worshipped her in the hopes of her favor in the future. She felt contentment, perhaps even happiness. She couldn’t quite put a name to the way she was feeling just yet.

And that was okay.

_ **~Back in Teiko’s first-string gym~** _

“For just two people, this is almost too impressive.” Nijimura admits, placing the papers down and watching the gameplay footage before them. Akashi sits across from him with a piercing gaze, expression neutral and body language calm. “Fujisaki Kotomi, huh? She’s a good girl.” He smiles fondly, though it’s a gesture short-lived, as he turns to Akashi, eyes speaking of business.

“Alright, you’ve got a deal. If Fujisaki Kotomi’s information pans out again, I’ll make your request to the head coach. But she has to agree to it, too.” Akashi nods in agreement. It wouldn’t do if she was bothered by doubt in the position he selected her to be in.

“I don’t think either of us will be disappointed, Nijimura-senpai.” Akashi offers his hand. Nijimura finds himself smirking a little, as he reaches out as well, meeting the younger boy’s hand and grasping it tightly.

“Seriously, how did we get so many ridiculous people, this year?” Their hands meet in the middle, signaling the beginning of a deal well struck.

_ **~On the way home~** _

“Ko-chan, we part ways here, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Get home safely, your Lucky Item will protect you.”

“Koto-chin, please bring more of those protein balls before we leave, okay?”

“Hey, be sure to answer the text I sent you, Kotomi.” Aomine apparently decided he liked calling her by her first name, without consulting her, but she merely laughs.

“I will. See you guys around school, and best of luck in qualifiers!” She bows to them before hurrying off, finding herself humming and swinging her bag.

It wasn’t until she gets home that she checks her phone to find the message sent to Aomine, only to find that she had 6 missed calls from the same number that had called her this morning, all within the last hour. How strange…the area code was from Japan, so it wasn’t anyone from home. Kotomi is deleting the calls when her phone’s screen shows her the same number once again. Kotomi sighs and presses the green phone icon, pressing her phone to her ear as she’s shedding her uniform’s pristine white blazer.

“Hello?” There’s moment of silence, and then a deep sigh, before the voice finally reaches her ears.

“Good evening, Kotomi.” Her face falls, good mood suddenly shattered to tiny pieces at her feet as she drops her blazer. There’s another long silence on her end now. There’s another questioning greeting and another silence following before she speaks, eyes empty and gazing at the wall across from her in the suddenly cold empty apartment. Her throat burns as she answers almost robotically.

“Good evening, father.”

  
  


  
  


 

  
  


  
  


1� A parody on a popular figure in Japan, Doraemon

2� Kotomi just used the phrase “君の事が好きだから” which is used in a romantic context, most notably when young people are admitting romantic feelings for one another for the first time. (hella awkward, lol)

3� LOL Yes a mention cameo be prepared for more of these because how can you not when it’s so easy to connect the universes!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes** Uh oh! Kotomi's scumbag dad is here! What could he possibly want with the daughter he's neglected?? Where's Fujita? Why isn't Kuroko improving? Was Murasakibara able to eat his dinner after all those popsicles? (yes) Also, we find out Kotomi isn't exactly Miss Sunshine with All the Right Answers for a Downtrodden anime boy :( Poor Kuroko!
> 
> Also! Question for y'all: Who do you think Kotomi could potentially have the best chemistry with? I'm curious as to what you think! Please let me know in a review!


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